Souvenirs Of Our Life
by ravenbard
Summary: *SHELVED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE* An elderly Rachel guides her inquisitive granddaughter through the items in a worn scrapbook.
1. The Slushee That Started It All

**TITLE – **Souvenirs Of Our Life

**RATING **– T for language and mature themes

**PAIRING – **Rachel/Quinn with a side of Brittany/Santana

**SYNOPSIS – **An elderly Rachel guides her inquisitive granddaughter through the items in a worn scrapbook.

**DISCLAIMER –** I don't own Glee. I'm just borrowing its characters for my personal amusement so don't sue for I have nothing of value.

**A/N – **I was reading Portia De Rossi's book Unbearable Lightness, which, by the way, is a heartbreaking read, and this phrase "souvenirs of our life" really stuck with me. Stuck, as in I couldn't get it out of my head. Therefore, I turned it into a story. The story and its characters might be a little OOC. Hope you enjoy it.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – The Slushee That Started It All<strong>

"_Grandmamma Rae?"_

_An old woman looked up from where she sat in her favorite rocking chair by a quietly crackling fire to see one of her youngest grandchildren tugging a heavy scrapbook alongside her. The child's face was scrunched up in concentration for the book was heavy and almost half her size. However, it was plain to see that the child would not be deterred by neither weight nor size as she continued lugging the precious item toward her grandmother._

_Rachel smiled fondly at the sight. "Hello, Shannon." She bent and picked up the slightly panting girl, along with the book. Settling Shannon onto her lap, she propped the book in front of the little girl. "What have we got here?"_

"_A really heavy book," the little girl replied promptly. At the tender age of three, Shannon's vocabulary was by far advance of her peers. Quinn had always joked that had despite Shannon being blonde, she was a miniature Rachel; ramblings, theatrics and all. Genes really was a wondrous thing. _

"_It's not just any book, Shannon. This book is special." Rachel ran a nostalgic finger down its cracked spine, her skin tingling as she recalled all the memories that were tucked inside this family heirloom. _

"_Is it magic?" The little girl asked, her eyes widening comically as she twisted in her grandmother's embrace to look up at Rachel's face._

_Rachel chuckled. "I suppose you could say that." She nudged Shannon back into a proper sitting position then quietly opened the worn cover, revealing a flattened object glued to a purpled stained page._

"_What's that?" Shannon asked, pointing a tiny finger at the page._

"_It's a slushee cup," Rachel explained._

"_What's a slushee?" _

"_A type of cold drink with ice chips in it," Rachel answered. "It comes in many flavors and colors."_

"_Like purple?" The inquisitive child asked as she traced a purple splotch next to the slushee cup._

"_Yes," Rachel replied. She looked down at the little girl who had taken to poking the flattened cup with an air of curiosity. "Do you want to hear the story of this slushee cup, Shan?"_

_The little blonde nodded excitedly, her blonde hair bouncing in agreement. "Please, grandmamma Rae! Tell me the story!"_

_Rachel laughed at her granddaughter's enthusiasm. "Alright," she conceded. "It all started when your grandma Quinn and I were in high school…"_

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SPLASH!

Rachel gasped in shock as she was assaulted with a slushee straight to the face. Spluttering and coughing, she spat out bits of the icy beverage from mouth, her entire posture rigid with tension as laughter sounded out across McKinley's hallway. Kids ambling up and down the hallway alike all stopped to watch the spectacle that was Rachel Berry. Some openly pointed at the drenched diva, mirth evident on their faces whilst others cringed and looked away, an odd mixture of shame and relief shadowing their faces. Shame for not standing up to their fellow student but relief for not being the target of the day.

Rachel's eyes felt as though they were on fire and she knuckled them furiously in a desperate attempt to dispel the smarting sensation of ice chips hitting the sensitive skin of her eyes with propelled force. Aside from feeling as if she had just gotten smacked by an iceberg, the stinging coldness of the beverage stole her breath away, leaving her lungs burning for much needed oxygen.

Chest heaving slightly, Rachel resorted to her breathing techniques to get her breathing back under control. She grimaced as she felt the stray piece of ice slither down the front of her shirt to pool at the bottom of her bra. Making a last swipe across her eyes, the petite girl opened them just in time to see Quinn lower her arm, revealing a self-satisfied smirk that was plastered wide across the blonde's face.

"I hear you like the grape slushee, Man-Hands," Quinn sneered, throwing the now empty slushee cup at Rachel's feet. "In your honor," she mocked, executing a half bow.

Something inside of Rachel snapped; it was akin to stretching a rubber band to its breaking point and the resulting backlash caused the petite brunette to do something that shocked the watching student body, Quinn and most definitely Rachel.

She slapped Quinn.

It was a movement so unplanned that Rachel was stunned speechless when her hand met the head cheerleader's cheek with palpable force, her entire palm tingling with the force of the slap. It reverberated down her arm, causing muscles to quiver in response.

The silence that fell onto the hallway was louder than a bomb going off. Students adopted looks of shock, horror and dread as they watched the scene unfold before them. Shock that someone so low on the social ladder would have the audacity to hit _Quinn_, the head cheerleader in front of the entire student body. Horror that mirrored Rachel's still stupefied face as she stared at her hand as though she had never seen it before. Dread that Quinn was simply standing there, not retaliating. That alone was a sign of an impending apocalypse.

What occurred next would rock the social foundations of McKinley High for weeks to come.

When Quinn took a step forward, the kids in the hallway collectively held their breaths for they knew the blonde was about to unleash Armageddon. And Rachel, poor Rachel, was going to get the brunt of it.

Rachel flinched instinctively as Quinn's movement toward her put her in far too close proximity with the blonde.

Quinn glowered at Rachel even as she towered over the petite girl. Reaching out, she grabbed the lapels of the smaller girl's slushee soaked shirt, fisting the material in her hands.

Then she pushed Rachel up against the row of lockers and kissed the hell out of her.

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><p><strong>AN 2 –** To continue or not to continue? Comments, critiques and smelly socks are welcomed.


	2. A White Flag of Red And Gold

**A/N – **A reader, _thesilentpath_, asked me for a timeline to this story. Ok, well, they had a brilliant piece of advice to set this in senior year so that's what I'm going to do. It means I pretty much have a clean slate to work with and I don't have to drudge up the babygate debacle, the Finn/Quinn/Rachel triangle etc etc.

So just to catch y'all up: Finn and Rachel broke up over the summer. Brittany, Santana and Quinn rekindled their friendship and are pretty much now back to being The Trio. Oh and just to toss in some crazy drama, the Cheerios are back.

Thank you all for your overwhelming support to this story by the way. I received a heck of a lot reviews just for the first chapter! Thanks!

Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 –A White Flag of Red And Gold<strong>

"_Kissing is gross," Shannon interrupted, scrunching her nose up in disgust. She absentmindedly played with Rachel's fingers even as her eyes remained transfixed upon the scrapbook propped up in front of her. "What's next, grandmamma?"_

_Rachel chuckled, both at the little girl's initial statement and at her impatience. The apple really didn't fall far from the tree. "Why don't you turn the page to find out, little one?"_

_Shannon complied and carefully flipped the page to reveal a satin red handkerchief with a border of gold stars tacked to the middle of the paper. "Ooh, pretty," she said, reaching a hand out to trace one of the embroidered gold stars._

_Rachel smiled. "That was my favorite handkerchief when I was a little girl." A melancholy pang echoed within her chest. "I carried it everywhere."_

"_So how come it's in here?" _

_Rachel bent her head and pressed a soft kiss into Shannon's silky soft blonde hair. "Because it holds a special place in my and Grandma Quinn's heart."_

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Rachel did not know what to make of the kiss. A part of her thought it was a cruel joke, planned and executed by the newly reinstated Cheerios in order to further humiliate the future starlet. If that was the case, the tiny diva thought that the joke was in severely poor taste. Not only was it exploitative but it was a mockery of same-sex relationships. And for _Quinn_ of all people to give her a slushee facial at the beginning of senior year…apparently summer had not been good to the blonde. Rachel felt that the last two years dissipated into thin air. She personally blamed the cheerleading uniform; it was sign of power and prestige after all and adhering to the social hierarchy was part and parcel of being a cheerleader. That did not mean that Rachel condoned Quinn's actions. Perhaps that was why she had slapped the blonde. The petite girl winced at the memory.

However, there was also another part of her that reminisced the fact that Quinn had looked just as shocked and mortified when she finally pried her mouth off Rachel's. _Reluctantly_, Rachel's inner voice whispered conspiratorially. What did Quinn's action mean exactly?

Days of stewing in a bottomless cauldron of "what ifs" finally took its toll and Rachel began seeking Quinn out. It was easier said than done, however, for the head cheerleader had taken to avoiding the petite diva at all costs. Whenever she saw Rachel strutting down the hallway, the blonde would take a detour or duck into the nearest bathroom. If she was with Brittany and Santana, Quinn would walk between the two and keep her head low, leaving the Latina to scowl and threaten whoever came near the trio.

Glee was the only time and place where Quinn could not avoid Rachel. However, being the naturally determined and stubborn girl that she was, the blonde resorted to pointedly ignoring the brunette. It wasn't anything unusual for neither girl interacted with each other voluntarily but it had become painfully obvious to the club that Quinn was doing her damnest to steer clear of Rachel.

The Glee kids weren't dim; they knew what went down between Quinn and Rachel. Despite their love for gossip, they respected the girls' privacy, choosing to remain ignorant to the admittedly bizarre situation and leaving Quinn and Rachel to their own devices. Summer had made them all grow up a little and each knew that sometimes butting your noses into places where it didn't belong only brought on more grief.

Which was why, Rachel was conflicted when she waltzed into the auditorium and found Quinn crying silently in front of the piano. The starlet debated on leaving but a gut-wrenching sob from the blonde quickly changed Rachel's mind. Putting her confusion and slight animosity for the blonde on the backburner, Rachel quietly made her way down to the stage until she came to a stop behind Quinn. She placed a cautionary hand on the head cheerleader's shoulder, not wanting to startle the emotionally distressed girl.

Quinn jumped anyway, the sudden unexpected contact startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up into the face of Rachel Berry and promptly shied away from the girl's touch. "Get away from me, RuPaul," she chewed out, bitterness lacing her voice. She ran an agitated hand across her eyes, hoping to erase the evidence of her tears.

Rachel sighed tiredly. "Please reign in those derogatory soubriquets, Quinn. You're better than that." She plopped herself down next to the blonde who was eyeing her warily. "You owe me an explanation," Rachel spoke quietly. There was no point in beating around the bush.

"I don't owe you squat," Quinn growled out. She moved to stand but Rachel's fingers encircling her wrist somehow kept her feet rooted to the wooden floors. She glared at the petite girl's hand as if through sheer willpower alone, she could make Rachel let go.

"Why did you kiss me, Quinn?" Rachel asked quietly. She looked up into hazel eyes that this close, was quite fascinating. The swirls of brown and green with flecks of gold betrayed a soul full of conflict and turmoil. Rachel had never seen such expressive eyes.

"I was possessed," Quinn spat out sarcastically. She shook off Rachel's grip and adopted her cheerleader stance as she stood before the girl. "I mean, who would want to kiss _you_?"

To the brunette's credit, her face remained impassive. "I don't believe you," Rachel replied evenly. "Nobody can deliver a kiss with such raw emotion like that. Not even the best of actors can achieve that level of realism." Rachel sidled closer to Quinn who involuntarily took a step back. "You _wanted_ to kiss me, didn't you?"

The quiet accusation sent all of Quinn's defenses rearing up. "No, I didn't," she hissed out. Her hands formed fists at her sides.

"Are you gay?"

"I'm NOT gay!" Quinn shouted aloud, the acoustics of the auditorium easily causing her voice to echo and bounce off the walls. Tears suddenly filled her eyes and she slumped against the side of the piano. "I'm not," she repeated, sounding more broken than Rachel had ever heard.

Minutes passed in silence as Quinn struggled internally and Rachel observed the clearly conflicted girl whilst worrying her bottom lip. Finally, Rachel decided to take the initiative. "It's ok," the petite diva assured. Her voice was unwavering in its self-proclaimed confidence. "I won't push for answers Quinn but I can tell that you are at war with yourself. I'm going to ignore the fact that you slushied me after everything we went through in the past two years. I also apologize for slapping you. It was decidedly uncalled for."

She stood and dug her hand into the pocket of her skirt, her clenched fingers coming up with a satin red handkerchief. Quinn couldn't help but chuckle when she saw a border of gold stars peeking out from the folded material. "Here," Rachel offered.

Quinn looked at the girl dubiously, causing Rachel to roll her eyes.

"It's clean," the brunette insisted. She waved it in front of her. "Take it."

Quinn took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Thanks," she muttered grudgingly. When she tried to return the handkerchief back to Rachel the smaller girl simply shook her head.

"Keep it," Rachel said. "Consider it my white flag."

With that, she stood and walked off the stage, leaving Quinn to ponder at the mess that had become her life.

The blonde was at a loss as she watched Rachel walk away. It terrified Quinn that the diminutive girl was always at the forefront of her mind. Had a bitchy day? Rachel was responsible. In a crabby mood? Rachel brought it on. Santana snarking at her more than usual? Rachel must have pissed her off.

However, Quinn's subconscious did not just associated Rachel with the bad. When Quinn was munching on a piece of chocolate during lunch, her mind's eye wondered over to its visual image of Rachel's big brown eyes. When Quinn was channel surfing the other night and came across a documentary about battery farms, the blonde immediately thought about Rachel and what she would do or say if she caught the show. When Quinn heard, saw or read anything relating to Barbara Streisand, her brain automatically linked it to Rachel.

Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.

Summers spent with Santana and Brittany did nothing to shake Rachel from her mind. Days of avoiding the future Broadway star did not deter the revelation that came barreling into Quinn with all the force of a freight train.

Quinn Fabray had a crush on Rachel Berry.

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	3. Breathe Crimson Into My Shirt

**A/N - **Thanks for reading and commenting, guys! I appreciate all the support for this story!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Breathe Crimson Into My Shirt<strong>

"_Why was Grandma Quinn so sad?" Inquisitive chocolate eyes, so eerily similar to Rachel's, peered up at the elderly woman._

"_She didn't know how to deal with some feelings she had," the older woman answered. _

"_Feelings?" the little girl piped up. Her brow furrowed and her tongue poked out as she marinated the word in her mind. "Oh, like when mommy gets mad at me for being bad and I get a gurgle-y __**feeling**__ in my tummy?"_

_Rachel nodded, amazed once again at how astute Shannon was for such a young age. "Exactly, Shan." She cupped her granddaughter's cheek. "You're such a smart girl, you know?"_

"_Thank you," came the immodest reply. _

_Rachel quirked a grin down at the little blonde. "Shall I continue with the story?"_

_Shannon nodded eagerly. Turning her attention back to the book, she turned to the next page to find a wrinkled up t-shirt folded in the middle of the page. The weathered piece of clothing bore faded brownish-red stains._

"_What's that?" the little girl asked, pointing at the curious lump of cloth._

"_Grandma Quinn's old gym t-shirt," Rachel replied. Her eyes misted as the memory revolving around said item floated back into her mind's eye._

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"Pick up your feet, ladies!" Coach Beiste bellowed from the side of the field. She watched as the girls stumbled and cursed their way across the hurdles they were supposed to be jumping. Just because Coach was asked to substitute for the school's regular gym teacher did not mean she was going to go easy on her class. She meant to put them through their paces.

Rachel, being one of the shortest in her class was proving to have the most difficulty. Even exercising daily on her elliptical could not have prepared her for the horror that was hurdle jumping. Distracted by her thoughts, Rachel miscalculated the distance between the next barrier and herself and she suddenly found her leg catching the corner of the hurdle as she attempted to jump over it. The result sent her crashing to the ground with an unceremonious thump face first.

The diminutive girl groaned in pain, as she lay prone on the track. When she felt something warm and wet trickle down her nose, panic arose and both hands instinctively reached up to cup themselves around her possibly broken nose.

"Get out of my way!" a familiar voice barked.

Quinn had arrived on the scene, having seen the commotion from the corner of her eye. She spun around and jogged back to where Rachel lay bleeding and the sight made her heart plummet to the pit of her stomach. Without any second thoughts, she whipped off her t-shirt, leaving her clad only in shorts and a sports bra. Ignoring the catcalls and wolf-whistles from the nearby footballers, she bent and gently pried Rachel's hands away from her nose only to replace it with her t-shirt.

"You're such a klutz, Rachel," Quinn scowled disapprovingly. She cringed as her once light-gray t-shirt rapidly sponged up the dark red liquid, effectively ruining her chances of wearing it again for life.

"I apologize for being an inconvenience to you, Quinn," Rachel's nasally voice sounded out from behind the t-shirt. Hurt was evident in her eyes. "However, if I recall, I did not ask you to come to my assistance."

"Shut up, Berry," Quinn growled. She threw an arm around Rachel's waist and half guided, half hauled the injured girl to her feet. The blonde was well aware that all eyes were watching her and that her actions were only fueling the school's rumor mill but for now all she wanted was to get Rachel to the nurse.

"Fabray!" Coach Beiste had finally arrived and she took one disgruntled look at Rachel's blood stained face before grimacing. "Take her to the nurse," she ordered. She took another look at Quinn and her state of undress. "And put some clothes on." To the rest of the openly gawking class, she barked, "the rest of you, back on to the field!"

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"You're lucky, Ms. Berry," the nurse said a tad bit too cheerfully for Rachel. "It's not broken, just banged up." She handed Rachel an icepack. "The bleeding's stopped so just ice the bridge of your nose to combat the swelling." With that, she turned on her heel and left to tend to her other patients.

Rachel was carefully nursing her bruised nose with the icepack when Quinn reemerged, properly clad in a simple white t-shirt. "Is it broken?" the blonde asked brusquely.

Rachel shook her head, and then winced as the movement sent a spike of pain shooting up between her eyes.

"Do you want me to get the nurse to give you a painkiller?" Quinn's voice was softer now and worry marred the gold of her eyes upon Rachel's wince.

Rachel shook her head again, slowly this time. An awkward silence permeated the air between them as the one-sided conversation fell flat. Rachel's eyes darted between the floor, the crack in the ceiling and when she thought Quinn wasn't looking, at Quinn. The blonde on the other hand, stared pointedly at her scuffed sneakers, wondering just why she was standing vigil by Rachel Berry's bedside.

"Why are you here, Quinn?" Rachel finally blurted out. She flinched as Quinn flashed stormy eyes at her. "Not that I'm not grateful," she backpedaled quickly. "But, I really don't understand this hot and cold behavior I seem to receive from you."

Quinn scowled. "Can't you just thank me and be on your way?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. She daintily hopped off the bed, wincing as her action caused her nose to sing out its agony. "Thank you for your assistance, Quinn." She edged around the blonde, careful not to touch the head cheerleader in any way. "I'll best be on my way now."

Rachel almost made it out of the room when Quinn's hand shot out and found purchase on the smaller girl's wrist. "Wait."

Rachel sighed resignedly and turned back around. "What is it, Quinn?"

Quinn chewed her bottom lip as she contemplated the question. It was evident to Rachel that the blonde was struggling to answer but after a minute went by the brunette grew tired of the blonde's indecisiveness. "Good day, Quinn," Rachel bit out a little more sharply than intended. She had every intention of storming out of the room like the diva she was when Quinn grabbed her hand again. Rachel frowned. "Really, Quinn, this is getting severely out of hand. I demand that you either unhand me right this minute or…"

Quinn cut off Rachel's ramblings with a kiss. It wasn't anything like the heated kiss the two shared in the hallway the other day. Instead, the kiss was soft, unsure, full of uncertainty and laced with a trace of panic.

Rachel remained stock still as Quinn repeatedly pressed her lips against hers. There was no forcefulness behind the kiss; it was a simple brushing of lips against lips. And the aching tenderness of it all sent Rachel's mind spiraling down a twisting avenue of confusion. She reached up and pushed Quinn away, albeit gently. She took in the blonde's flushed cheeks and absentmindedly reached up only to feel the heat coming from her own face.

"You can't keep kissing me out of the blue, Quinn," Rachel spoke softly, a little alarmed that her voice came out more gravelly than normal. Taking initiative, she moved a little closer to the blonde who was clearly caught between wanting to run away or remain frozen in front of Rachel. The petite girl reached up and cupped Quinn's cheek. "Talk to me."

"Rachel," Quinn choked out. She leaned into the girl's touch, hating just how much Rachel's skin on hers made her feel so alive.

"Do you like me, Quinn?"

Unable to answer but unwilling to hide behind her cowardly façade any longer, Quinn simply nodded.

Rachel dropped her hand and Quinn's face instantly fell. She looked into Rachel's chocolate orbs, her own hazel eyes awash in hurt and panic.

"I don't understand," Rachel said quietly. She stared hard at Quinn who was looking at her with such a painful expression that it made the brunette's heart clench. "Your behavior toward me had always been atrocious at its worst and hostile at its best." Large brown eyes bore intently into Quinn. "What changed?"

Quinn shrugged, feeling more helpless than ever. "I don't know," she admitted. She heard Rachel scoff and a little bit of her icy queen demeanor reared its ugly head. "I don't _know_, Rachel," she snapped. "I just know that I have feelings for you and it's goddamn confusing. Not only are you Rachel freakin' Berry but you're a girl!" Quinn threw her hands up in aggravation. "I don't like girls!"

"Clearly, you've been harboring latent feelings of homosexuality," Rachel replied sagely. The starlet scratched her head. "Why don't we attempt to strike up a friendship? See where it goes from there?"

Quinn stared at Rachel as though she had grown two heads. "Friendship?" she echoed stupidly.

Rachel sighed, knowing that the idea was futile as it was ridiculous. "Forget it," she muttered, knowing that Quinn wouldn't upset her popularity and prestige at McKinley for a friendship with the school's social pariah. She moved to leave but for the third time, Quinn stopped her, this time with a tentative hug. Rachel couldn't help but sink into the blonde's embrace, her battered nose sniffing at the hint of jasmine she found lingering on skin of Quinn's neck.

Quinn finally pulled back but left her arms around Rachel in a loose embrace. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling a little embarrassed at her open display of emotion.

Rachel stared up at Quinn, her eyes guarded. "You are a person full of contradicting contrasts, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn nodded miserably. "I know," she agreed. She finally let Rachel go then stuck out her hand. "Friends?"

Rachel looked at the proffered hand then up into the blonde cheerleader's face. Finding no shred of doubt, she took the hand and shook it. "Friends," she answered solemnly.

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	4. Locker Notes

**A/N -** The website wouldn't let me type in the entire title for this chapter for the pull down chapter's tab so I shortened it to "Locker Notes." Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 – Locker Notes Are The Foundations Of Friendship<strong>

"_Grandma Quinn is a hero," Shannon breathed out dreamily. _

"_Well, she's definitely my hero," Rachel replied quietly._

_Expectant eyes glanced up at Rachel. "Will I find my hero too?" the little girl asked shyly._

_Rachel smiled at her granddaughter tenderly. "Of course you will, sweetheart." She jostled the little girl slightly in order to relieve the slight numbing ache of having a rather rambunctious three year sit on her worn knees for an extended amount of time. "You want to find out what's next?"_

_Shannon nodded eagerly and turned the page. There, lying in a makeshift pocket was a bundled up sheaf of what looked like papers torn out of a notebook. The little blonde frowned. "That's a funny looking storybook, grandmamma."_

_Rachel laughed. "It's not a storybook, Shannon. They're notes." She eased a crooked finger under the pocket and gently pulled out the bundle of papers. It surprised her every time that there were actually that many. Untying the knot to the simple purple string that held the bundle together, she allowed the papers to fall open onto the scrapbook._

"_You're the best friend I could ever hope to have. I love you. ~ Q" Tears pricked the back of Rachel's eyes as she took in Quinn's handwriting. It had been a long time since she saw the elegant script. Sniffing subtly, she leafed through the thick sheaf of papers. "The Broadway lights are dazzling Quinn, but a smile from you outshines the sun itself. ~ Rachel *"_

_Another suspicious sniffle caused Shannon to look back up at her grandmother. "Are you crying?" _

_The innocent way the little girl phrased the question almost made Rachel lose control of her emotions. Sucking in a calming breath, she bestowed upon her granddaughter, a watery smile. "Let's continue with the story, little one."_

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The notes began with an accident. Quinn had left her chemistry book in the lab, having forgotten it in her haste to make it to Cheerios practice. Rachel was left with the forlorn item, her overly analytical mind pondering through idea after idea on how to return it to its owner. The petite diva knew that she couldn't waltz in on the Cheerios in the middle of practice; Coach Sylvester would put her six feet under. She couldn't very well pry open Quinn's locker with a nail file for that would be a gross invasion of privacy, not to mention a felony. And she couldn't wait for Quinn to finish because she had a dance lesson to attend.

Sighing in abject resignation, Rachel whipped out a notepad. Scribbling a quick note, and tacking on a gold star to the end of her name, she tore the paper out and folded it. The petite girl detoured to Quinn's locker on her way to her own, slipped the folded paper between the vents of the locker then made her way down the hall.

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Quinn was rooting around in her locker for her chemistry book. She grumbled in annoyance when the item in question was nowhere to be found. So intent in her search, the head cheerleader completely missed a small slip of folded paper float unobtrusively from her locker door onto the floor.

It was Santana who spotted it. Bending, she fished it off the floor and spared it the briefest of glances before curling her lip in disgust and thrusting it under Quinn's nose. "A message from the land of the hobbits," the Latina stated in a bored tone.

"Don't call her that," Quinn snapped. She unfolded the note, scanned it quickly then sighed in relief. A small played about her lips as she traced the gold star sticker tacked to end of Rachel's name. Folding it again, she tucked the note into her back pocket and hauled her backpack out of the locker before closing it.

"What did Thumbelina want?" Santana droned, clearly uninterested.

"She told me that I left my chemistry book in class and that she has it," Quinn replied shortly, bristling at Santana's refusal of calling Rachel by her name.

"Fantastic. Now, let's blow this joint. B's waiting for me." With a practiced flick of her hair, the Latina turned on her heel and sauntered down the hall, Quinn trailing behind her, absentmindedly patting the pocket where the note lay.

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**Meet me for lunch? ~ Q**

Rachel smiled and tucked the note in between the pages of her notebook journal. Gently closing her locker, she fairly skipped down the hallway, her brown paper lunch bag swinging merrily by her side. So lost in her thoughts, the diminutive girl failed to see a Letterman jacket clad jock come up to her to throw a slushee in her face.

"Dyke," he growled, dumping the now empty cup on the top of her head before ambling off.

Spluttering in indignation and from having corn syrup and ice chips fly unexpectedly into her mouth, Rachel sighed in frustration. Plucking the cup from the top of her head, she knuckled at her eyes with the other, hoping to ease the stinging sensation prickling at her eyelids.

When the girl had recovered her sense of sight, she glanced down at her ruined sweater and her partially soggy lunch bag. Sighing again, this time in resignation, Rachel knew that postponing her lunch date with Quinn was now inevitable. Turning back the way she came, she made a bee line for her locker to retrieve her slushee clean up kit. Lunch with Quinn would have to wait.

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"Quit moping," Santana barked across the table at Quinn.

"San, don't be mean," Brittany chastised, placing a soothing hand on the irascible Latina's knee.

"She's killing my appetite with her sad puppy dog eyes and dejected posture," Santana growled. She tossed a fry at Quinn's head, raising an eyebrow in challenge when the blonde scowled at her. "Oh don't even start. Go find your missing lawn decoration if you're so worried."

Quinn growled low in her throat. Throwing her chair back with a livid push, she stood, speared Santana with a heated glare before stalking out of the cafeteria.

"San, you made her mad," Brittany whispered theatrically.

"She'll get over it," Santana waved off. She reached over and plucked Quinn's uneaten bowl of salad off her tray.

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When Quinn found out what happened to make Rachel MIA for their lunch date, the head cheerleader's eyes had narrowed to slits and would have happily gone on a rampage to find the culprit and stake his body onto the middle of the football field but Rachel had been adamant that Quinn let it go.

Grumbling under her breath, the blonde had reluctantly agreed _only_ if she could escort Rachel to lunch from now on. This earned Quinn an incredulous look and an arched eyebrow from the diminutive girl but in the end, Rachel shrugged and complied.

Today, however, was different. Rachel dexterously caught the slip of paper that had previously been wedged between the locker air vents. She unfolded it.

**Santana and Britt going to walk you to lunch today. Coach wants a word. ~ Q**

Rachel exhaled resignedly around a soft smile. Whilst she found Quinn's sudden over protectiveness rather endearing, it was also somewhat infuriating. Mentally making a note to have a talk with her blonde counterpart, Rachel fished out the books she needed for her next lesson before making her way to class.

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**You look lovely today, Quinn. The color of your dress really accentuates the gold in your eyes. ~ Rachel ***

Quinn blushed furiously and attempted to fold the note back but unfortunately, Santana, who somehow always managed to appear whenever an opportunity for embarrassment and mockery presented itself, snagged the note out of Quinn's fingers and read it quickly. The Latina's coffee-stained eyes narrowed and her lips twisted.

"Are you two doing the nasty yet?"

"SANTANA!" Quinn snatched the note out of her smirking second in command's hand and quickly shoved it into her jacket pocket.

"Oh, please. The way you two look at each other makes me sick." The Latina whipped out a nail file and proceeded to buff her perfectly manicured nails.

"We're just friends," Quinn insisted. She buried her head in her locker in an attempt to give her face time to fade back to its usual pallor of milky white.

"Sure you are," Santana drawled, whilst staring intently at her nails for any sign of imperfection.

Quinn was about to retort with a biting comeback when Brittany came bouncing over to the pair, pausing to squeeze Quinn quickly around the middle before throwing herself into Santana's waiting arms. The blonde watched with a twinge of envy; summer had been good to the pair, both taking the time to rekindle their strained friendship and budding relationship. The end result was a calmer Santana and a back to her usual bubbly self, Brittany.

Later, as Santana escorted Brittany off to her home economics class, Quinn took a slight detour to drop a note into Rachel's locker before going to class.

When Rachel opened her locker to find Quinn's note waiting for her, the carefully penned words sent a heated blush rising from the base of Rachel's neck up to her flushed cheeks.

**You're always pretty, Rachel. ~ Q**

These notes sparked a whole slew of compliment filled folded slips of paper that lasted all the way to the end of their senior year.

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	5. Tickets To Cuddle, Receipts To Handhold

**A/N – **Thanks to everybody who took the time to leave a review. And for the story/author alerts. More fluffiness to come in this chapter. Pure, unadulterated fluff. I refuse to take the blame for any cavities that might ensue. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 5 – <strong>Tickets To Cuddle, Receipts To Handhold<strong>**

"_Auntie Sanny is mean in your story, grandmamma," Shannon observed, wrinkling her face up in disapproval. "Did she not like you and Grandma Quinn?"_

_Rachel chuckled. "I'm sure she liked us just fine," she replied diplomatically. "Your Auntie Santana was just a little…grouchy when she was younger." _'Not that she's changed much,'_ Rachel mused to herself with a slight smirk. She reached down and gently tickled Shannon's sides, eliciting a surprised giggle from the blonde. "How are you liking the story so far, little one?"_

"_S'good," Shannon mumbled around a sudden yawn. Knuckling her eyes, she peered down at the bulging scrapbook, noticing that it was so chock full of miscellaneous items that it was full to bursting at the seams. "You gonna tell me more?" The little girl fought off another yawn._

"_Of course, sweetheart." Rachel leaned forward slightly and flicked the corner of the page. There lay two faded tickets and a wrinkled receipt. _

"_I know what those are!" Shannon piped up excitedly, pointing at the two tickets glued side by side. "Mommy took me to a dark room with a big, big TV at the mall the other day. She said it was called…" The little girl paused as she attempted to wrangle the unfamiliar word from her mind. "The cinema!" she finished triumphantly._

_Rachel tousled her granddaughter's hair. "Very good," she complimented. She looked down fondly at the frayed items, her mind have no problem whatsoever in recollecting this very precious memory. She could still smell the popcorn tinged air and feel the way her entire left side warmed considerably as Quinn stood next to her… _

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"Quit chewing on your lip like that, Fabray. Someone might think you've gotten into cannibalism." Santana was sequestered on the gym floor, doing warm-up stretches. Next to her, Brittany was idly dancing to a tune in her head. Quinn was sitting on the bench, staring vaguely off into space.

"Bite me, Santana," Quinn paused momentarily to snap out of her reverie so that she could snarl a response before returning back to worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

"I rest my case," Santana drawled lazily. The Latina finished up and bounced back onto her feet, shaking muscles loose. "Seriously, though, what crawled up your ass and died?"

"Quinn wants to ask Rachel out on a date," Brittany interjected. She sidled up behind Santana and wrapped both arms around the brunette before propping her chin on the smaller girl's shoulder.

Santana leaned into Brittany even as she barked out an amused laugh. "_This_ is what's gotten your spanks in a twist?" She chuckled darkly, mirth evident in her eyes. "Oh, this is just too good!"

"Santana, I'm warning you…" Quinn growled, purposely leaving her verbal threat hanging as she advanced onto the brunette.

"Oh, go intimidate someone who actually buys it," Santana retorted. She turned and placed a gentle kiss to Brittany's cheek, earning her a tighter hug from the bubbly blonde.

"Why don't you just take her to dinner and movie?" Brittany suggested brightly. "Oh, I know! Take her to watch Kung Fu Panda 2!" Her eyes lit up at her own proposal and she wiggled out from behind Santana to stand in front of her. "San…" she began, already throwing on the pouting lower lip and wide pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Sure, B. We'll hit the cinema after practice," was Santana's immediate reply. She scowled over Brittany's shoulder at Quinn when the blonde made a whip cracking motion. "Bite me, Queerio!"

"Watch it, S," Quinn sang out cheerily as she stood and dusted off her skirt. "Anymore remarks like that and people will start to think you were into cannibalism." She blew the Latina a mocking kiss when Santana flipped her the bird. "Thanks for the advice, Britt." She turned and made her way over to the rest of her squad to begin practice.

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"Rachel?"

The brunette answered with a muffled squeal and Quinn smiled indulgently before pulling the girl impossibly closer to her. The pair were ensconced on the couch in Rachel's living room, doing what they always did during their weekly sleepovers: watching movies. This week it was Quinn's turn to pick and to Rachel's utter dismay during their initial sleepovers, she found that the blonde had a fondness for horror movies. Rachel _hated_ horror movies.

Which explained their current position on the couch; Quinn was on her back, her head resting on a cushion. Burrowed into her side was Rachel who curled up against the blonde in an almost fetal position. One hand fisted the front of Quinn's t-shirt, gripping the material so tightly that her knuckles almost glowed white. Her face was buried up against Quinn's neck, effectively shielding her eyes from the blood and gore that was splattered across her television screen.

When a particularly blood-curdling scream echoed out from the speakers, Rachel yelped in response and shuffled closer to Quinn, even though the length of her petite body was already plastered to the blonde's side. "Q-Quinn," she stuttered through her fear. "I know you have a penchant for all things horror but if I'm to receive any ounce of sleep tonight then I beg you to turn that infernal movie off!"

Quinn giggled at Rachel's theatrics but when she felt another tremor race through the smaller girl, the blonde complied and threw a hand out onto the coffee table to fish around for the remote control. When her fingers touched upon a cool rectangular item, she pulled it toward her, located the off button and promptly switched off the entertainment system. The light from the television was the only thing keeping the living room alight and now with it turned off, it threw the pair into a billowing darkness. Rachel whimpered in panic and Quinn dropped the remote onto the floor before winding a comforting arm around Rachel's back, making soothing motions with her palm. Her other hand reached behind her to tug on a small latch that would turn on the lamp resting on the small table next to the couch.

When the small glow of orange-yellow light permeated the room, Rachel breathed a sigh of relief but refused to remove herself from Quinn's side. The blonde didn't mind; she was simply content to hold the smaller girl.

"Rachel?" Quinn repeated the girl's name. Her fingers somehow had found its way under the smaller girl's tank top and she was lightly scratching the silky soft skin she found underneath.

"Mmm?" Rachel mumbled. The light scratching of Rachel's back was fast putting the petite diva into a light doze. She struggled through the quicksand of impending sleep. "Something you wanna ask me?" she slurred sleepily. Apparently, getting to sleep was not that hard after all.

Quinn bit her lip as she looked down at the crown of thick chestnut brown hair tucked under her chin. "Will you go on a date with me, Rachel?" she whispered hesitantly.

"Sure, Quinn," Rachel replied drowsily. In her semi conscious state, the girl had unintentionally jumbled her words together into a string of almost unintelligible sentences. "A date," she muttered, nuzzling her nose into the crook of Quinn's neck. "You smell good," she mumbled, nudging at Quinn's pulse point with the tip of her nose. The blonde's pulse began to race in response. "G'night, Quinn," she yawned before slumping her entire weight on top of her body pillow.

Quinn smiled softly. She ran a hand through Rachel's hair as she settled her shoulders more comfortably on the couch. "Good night, Rachel." Her last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep was hoping that Rachel was still somewhat lucid enough to understand what she said yes to.

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Rachel fiddled nervously with the collar of her shirt, intermittently tugging it away from her neck as though it were a tightening noose. Her dad, Leroy, looked up from behind his newspaper and smiled kindly at the sight of his clearly nervous daughter. He stood, folded the paper and placed it onto the coffee table before making his way over to Rachel. He gave his daughter a gentle hug, one that the girl sunk into.

"Stop looking so nervous, honey," he whispered into her ear. Pulling back, he tucked an errant strand of brown hair behind her ear. "You look very pretty, Rae."

Rachel ducked her head shyly. "Thanks dad," she replied softly. She jumped slightly when the doorbell rang. "I guess I'll go and get that," she said, her voice ending in a slight squeak.

Leroy chuckled but nodded, following languidly behind his daughter as she made her way to the front door. She opened it to reveal and equally nervous Quinn. The blonde was dressed in a simple dress and a dark denim jacket covering her arms and shoulders. She smiled up shakily at Rachel before her eyes darted over the smaller girl's shoulder, her cheeks paling dramatically as she took in Leroy Berry. "H-hi, Mr. Berry," Quinn stammered. She fiddled with her purse. "I'm uh…I'm here to take Rachel on a date."

Leroy laughed softly and playfully nudged Rachel away from the door so that he could step out to take Quinn into his arms. "There's no need for such formalities, Quinn," he told her as he drew back. "You've been coming over for dinner and sleepovers for a few months now." He brushed an affectionate hand down Quinn's cheek. "You're looking very pretty too, if I may say so myself."

Quinn blushed furiously, feeling as though her cheeks were on fire. "Thanks," she mumbled, her embarrassment leaving her tongue-tied.

"Well, you crazy kids have fun," Leroy said as he took his cue to leave. "Please have her home by eleven, Quinn." He made his way back inside the house, pausing only to drop a kiss to Rachel's temple before disappearing back into the living room.

Quinn exhaled softly as she looked at Rachel. The girl was dressed in a simple shirt and a skirt, her hair slightly curled and left to hang loosely around her face. She looked radiant. "Hi," the blonde greeted. "Your dad was right, you do look pretty."

Rachel blushed in turn. "Thank you, Quinn," she replied. "You're beautiful," she whispered reverently, staring up at Quinn from beneath fluttering eyelashes.

Quinn smiled and held out a hand. "Shall we go?"

Rachel nodded and took the proffered hand.

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"No horror movies, Quinn," Rachel ordered sternly. She winced at a poster of some creepy looking boy with a Justin Bieber haircut and the word "Insidious", stamped across his chest.

"No horror movies," Quinn echoed dutifully. She shuffled them forward as the line inched its way to the box office. "Brittany suggested we watch Kung Fu Panda 2," she teased the smaller girl. "Then she immediately corralled Santana into taking her to watch it."

Rachel giggled. "Whilst I'm not adverse to animation motion pictures, I do believe that romantic comedies are the way to go for first dates." She waved her hand at the poster of Something Borrowed. "How about that?"

Quinn spared the poster a quick glance, not really caring what movie they were going to catch. She just wanted to spend time with Rachel. "Sure," she shrugged. They reached the counter and had a slight argument when purchasing the tickets; Rachel wanted to go Dutch but Quinn was adamant that she pay, compromising only by allowing Rachel to buy their snacks.

Ten minutes into the movie had Rachel realizing that Quinn was attempting to pull one of the oldest tricks in the book; the 'yawn and stretching one's arm over one's head but really trying to edge said arm around Rachel's shoulders' trick. The brunette grinned in amusement as Quinn faked another yawn, her left arm inching up over her head again. Bemused and more than a little charmed, Rachel decided to put Quinn out of her misery by grabbing the suspended arm and throwing it over her shoulders. She lifted the armrest that divided her from Quinn and promptly snuggled into Quinn's side.

"You only had to ask," Rachel murmured into a nearby ear before returning her attention to the screen.

Quinn blushed furiously at being caught in the act but tightened her grip around the brunette and bravely dropped a slight kiss to the top of Rachel's head before turning her eyes back on the screen.

So far, this was the best first date either girl had ever been on.

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"Where are we?" Rachel's inquisitive voice floated into the crisp night air as she exited the car and observed her surroundings. She knew they were on the outskirts of Lima, almost touching upon the neighboring town but was unsure of the precise location they were currently at.

"Lima isn't exactly generous with its vegan residents so I had to do a bit of Googling," Quinn explained shyly. She gestured to a dimly light restaurant across the street from where they parked. "This was the closest vegan restaurant I could find."

Rachel impulsively pulled herself onto the tips of her toes to place a soft, lingering kiss on Quinn's cheek. "Thank you for being so considerate," she whispered against soft skin.

Quinn flushed with pride. "You're welcome." She reached down and gently interlaced their fingers together. "Shall we go?"

An hour later, the girls had ordered and slowly eaten their way through their meals. Small bites of delicious food were punctuated with bashful glances at each other and simple small talk. Now, the pair lingered over a chocolate mousse, which Rachel insisted they share. The brunette noticed that Quinn's hand was twitching where it lay on the table. It seemed as though the hand were searching for something for its fingers occasionally fanned out or inched forward only to retreat. When Rachel noted the location of her own hand on the table, realization struck her smack in the face. She smiled softly and took the initiative. Sliding her hand across the table, she grasped Quinn's hand in a gentle hold.

Quinn started at the unexpected contact. A slow flush crawled up her cheeks when she realized that for the second time tonight, her subtle attempts at trying to touch Rachel were really not that subtle at all. She offered the girl across the table a quiet smile before cradling Rachel's hand in a manner that made Rachel feel cherished and safe.

The pair held hands all the way back to the car.

When Quinn dropped Rachel home with a sweet but chaste kiss goodnight, both girls' thoughts mirrored the other's.

It was the best first date they had ever had.

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	6. Intermission: Santana

**Chapter 6 – Intermission: Santana**

**A/N – **Thought I'd add throw in chapters like this every now and then. Just to garner the other Gleeks' perspectives on the awesome that is Faberry. Thanks for all the reviews, btw. Happy reading!

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><p>"<em>Rachel?"<em>

_The woman in question faltered in her story, her head snapping up to look at the direction of the door. The little blonde sequestered on her lap followed suit and upon seeing Santana's head poking in between the door and its frame, her eyes lit up and she scrambled off her grandmother's lap before bounding across the room._

"_Auntie Sanny!" _

_Santana laughed and walked through the door just in time to catching a flying blonde blur. She cradled Shannon lovingly in her arms. "Hi there, Shannon," she mumbled affectionately around a kiss to the little girl's head. "How's my diva mini-me?"_

"_Good!" Shannon replied in time to Rachel's good-natured scowl.  
><em>

_Santana chuckled at the blonde's enthusiasm. She languidly made her way over to Rachel, waving a hand for her old friend to remain seated when she caught sight of her trying to stand. She reached the seated woman and bent to place a soft kiss on Rachel's cheek. "How are you, Rachel?"_

_Rachel smiled and reached up a hand to cup Santana's cheek. "I'm good, San." Her thumb rubbed at the soft skin it found. "When did you get here?"_

"_Now," came the cheeky reply. "Britt's getting the last of the bags out of the car." Santana jostled a jubilant Shannon more securely against her shoulder even as the girl continued to chat almost nonsensically in her ear. "Whoa, slow down there, squirt. Britts and I are going to be here all week so you don't have to tell me everything at once."_

"_Auntie San! Grandmamma Rachel was telling me about her and Grandma Quinn when they were little." She settled down in Santana's lap when the Latina took the chair opposite Rachel. She paused and frowned up at the woman. "You were really mean in grandmamma's story."_

_Santana cocked an eyebrow at Rachel who had the good graces to blush. "Oh, mean was I?" She mock growled at the little girl and fashioned her fingers into a claw. "How's this for mean?" She began tickling the little girl in earnest, earning her delighted squeals and laughter from Shannon and an indulgent grin from Rachel. "Do you think I'm mean?" Santana asked, slowing her tickling assault to soothing rubs. _

_Shannon, a toothy grin etched across her lips, shook her head and snuggled into her honorary aunt's embrace. "Nope. You are the coolest aunt ever!"_

_Rachel chuckled as Santana visibly melted. "Oh, she's got you wrapped around her little finger, Santana. You always had a weakness for blondes."_

"_You're one to talk, Berry," Santana scowled affably. "Need I remind you of the time we double dated and Brittany dragged us to the arcade?" She grinned wickedly at Rachel's visible blush. _

"_What happened?" Shannon inquired curiously, much to Rachel's dismay, if her embarrassed groan was any indication. _

_Santana smirked and shifted slightly to attain a more comfortable position. "Well now, let's see. Your Grandma Quinn saw this unicorn in the claw machine…"_

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"Explain to me why I'm here," Santana demanded, her arms akimbo as she bestowed a withering glare onto her captain.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You're here because Rachel insisted we all try to get along and Brittany wanted to double date."

"And you agreed to this act of lunacy?" The incredulousness in Santana's voice did not go about unnoticed. "Jesus, Fabray, you've barely dated the Polly Pocket for a month and she's already got you whipped," she sneered.

Quinn scowled and turned to face her second in command. "Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Who got stuck in the doghouse for an entire _week_ because they refused to sing that Disney song with B?" She laughed in victory when Santana's cheeks flushed crimson. "A song, I might add, you ended up singing anyway because all B had to do was to not put out for you to go groveling at her feet."

"Screw you, Juno," Santana snarled.

"Oh, you only wish," Quinn retorted. She perked up when she saw a tall lanky blonde animatedly chattering to a petite brunette. "Ah, there they are." She waved the pair over then turned to the Latina. "Be nice," she warned, jutting at finger into her friend's face.

Santana scoffed but refrained from spitting out a biting comment when Brittany came bouncing over. She halted for the briefest of seconds to hug Quinn off her feet before launching straight into Santana's arms, laughing merrily as Santana caught her agilely, swinging her around before putting her back onto her feet.

Quinn hid a smile then turned to address the petite brunette who had sidled up to her with a shy smile. "Hi," she whispered, reaching out to take Rachel's hand.

The diminutive girl bit her lip in a manner that Quinn found utterly adorable. "Hello, Quinn."

Quinn was about to lean down for a kiss when Santana's low alto snapped them out of their little world. She turned to growl at the Latina but Brittany distracted her by pointing excitedly toward the direction of the arcade.

"Come on, guys!" the ditzy blonde exclaimed. She began tugging on Santana's hand, the Latina putting up no resistance. "Let's go play!"

Quinn groaned but followed, Rachel at her side. She shot an apologetic look for the botched date but Rachel only shook her head. "I like the arcade," she whispered and Quinn squared her shoulders, suddenly feeling lighter. She brought up their linked hands and whispered a kiss across Rachel's knuckles.

"Stop flirting and get over here!" Santana barked. She was already standing in line, purse in hand. Brittany was next to her, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet.

Rachel and Quinn shared a smile at the sight and made their way toward their friends.

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"Hey, Q, check out this new—" Santana announced to thin air as she pivoted around only to find no blonde standing behind her. "—pinball machine." The Latina frowned. "What the hell?" She scanned her surroundings but only found Brittany and Rachel competing against each other on the DDR machine. The blonde was winning, obviously, but Rachel was surprisingly up to par in the dancing department.

Santana made her way over to the pair just in time to see the machine declare Brittany champion. "That's my girl," she stated proudly as she came to a stop next to her girlfriend. Brittany squealed and jumped into Santana's arms. "Have you seen, Q, Britt?"

Brittany shook her head and Rachel glared. "You _lost_ Quinn?" The petite diva resisted the urge to stomp her feet. "That is highly irresponsible of you, Santana."

"Oh back off me, midget. Q's a big girl; if she wanted to go wandering around it's her choice." Santana let go of Brittany to scowl down at Rachel.

"San…" Brittany's soft warning had Santana slumping her shoulders but before she could edge in another word Brittany's high-pitched shriek going off right next to her ear conveniently robbed the Latina of her train of thought.

"Oww. Britt, not so loud!"

"I found Quinn!" Brittany pointed to the far left where a row of claw machines stood next to each other. The other two canted their heads in the direction of Brittany's wildly flailing arm and saw that the missing blonde was indeed standing in front of one the brightly colored machines, her head noticeably tilted sideways as she jiggled a joystick in her hand.

"There you are, Quinn," Rachel said as she came to a stop behind the blonde, Brittany and Santana in tow. "We were beginning to worry that we lost you."

"No we didn't," Santana muttered. She cast a disdainful look at Quinn. "Those things just eat your tokens, Q. They're rigged."

"Shh," the blonde hissed out. She growled in frustration as the claw narrowly missed the silver-white unicorn Quinn was aiming for and the machine flashed out 'Game Over'. Quinn scowled. "Thanks a lot, Lopez. You cost me my unicorn." She glowered at Santana who crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

"It's not my fault, you can't handle the pressure, Fabray." The Latina tapped at the glass window. "But, like I said, these things are rigged."

"They're _not_ rigged," Quinn seethed. "I almost had it and you just _haad_to interrupt." Turning away from the Hispanic girl, she rooted around in her pocket for another token but found that she had none. "Damnit, I'm out." She pouted. "I want that unicorn."

"And I'm bored," Santana drawled. She entwined her fingers with Brittany who was cooing at all the stuffed animals inside the machine. "Let's go." She groaned in utmost frustration when Rachel stepped in front of her.

"I've got a few tokens left, Quinn. Why don't you let me have a go while you change this ten dollar note into more tokens at the counter?" Rachel didn't wait for a reply as she handed Quinn the money and took her spot in front of the game console.

Two hours later saw Rachel stooped over the claw machine, hair slightly disheveled from running frustrated fingers repeatedly through it. Quinn was standing her side, obediently feeding token after token into the machine. Santana and Brittany had left the pair earlier on to make a trip to the food court and the toy store and now they arrived back, hands laden with the spoils of their solo shopping trip. When they found Quinn and Rachel in basically the same position as two hours earlier both a dark and light eyebrow arched respectively.

Santana was the one who spoke first. "Are you two screwing with me?" She dropped her bags down with an irritated thump. "_Two_ hours. Two freakin' hours and you're still here?"

"I'm trying to win Quinn her unicorn," came Rachel's slightly distorted voice as she pressed her face up against the glass, head canted at an angle as she ascertained the best way of guiding the claw gently down onto her target. When the claw clamped down on either side of the toy and began lifting it, both Quinn and Rachel held their breaths. However, fate was evidently cruel because the toy slipped out the claw's clutches and dropped back into the pile of stuffed animals. Quinn exhaled unhappily and Rachel made a noise born out of extreme irritation.

"Alright, I'm cutting you two off." Santana wedged herself between the machine and the obsessive pair. "We're leaving. **Now**."

"Santana, I am determined to win Quinn that unicorn!" Rachel huffed, clearly unimpressed at being manhandled. She wiggled away from the Latina's grasp. "Just let me concentrate. I almost had it the last time."

"Q, tell your midget to see sense!" Santana barked, losing all patience.

Quinn bit her lip, torn between wanting Rachel to succeed, wanting the toy and wanting to avoid a big blow up between Rachel and Santana. "Five more minutes," she offered. "If she doesn't get it then, we'll leave."

Santana threw her hands up in frustration and snarled something in Spanish.

Brittany, who had been watching the scene quietly, slid up behind Rachel who had begun a new game. "It's all in the wrist," the dancer whispered into the smaller girl's ear. Placing her hand over Rachel's she helped the petite diva maneuver the claw over the unicorn toy. Cerulean blue eyes narrowed in on the claw's movements as she manipulated Rachel's hand on the joystick. Quinn and Santana watched in gob smacked amazement as the toy was lifted from inside the machine. It swayed precariously for a scant second as the claw swung toward the exit chute and Rachel inadvertently winced. There was a collective gasp from the group when the toy was dropped…down the exit chute. It landed with a soft thud.

Rachel felt her jaw go slack. She turned to face Brittany. "How did you do that?" she demanded.

Brittany shrugged then shuffled back toward Santana who stared at her girlfriend with a mixture of awe and bewilderment. She leaned into the Latina whose tanned arms immediately snaked around her. "Can we go home now? I'm tired."

Quinn bent to retrieve her prize. The unicorn was neither large nor small but fit perfectly in the crook of her arms. She cradled the toy to her chest, her cheek nuzzling its soft fur. "Thank you, Rachel," she said, leaning over for a kiss.

Rachel pouted and folded her arms over her chest. "Don't thank me, thank Brittany," she groused. "Two _hours_, Quinn and she manages to get it on the first try. This revelation is both flummoxing and humiliating."

Quinn smiled gently. She pulled Rachel into a hug and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It's the thought that counts so thank you."

Beside them, Santana faked a gag.

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	7. The Lily Means I Dare You To Love Me

**A/N –** Alright-y, fellow readers. Many of you are asking about where Quinn is in the present. For now, I'm pleading the fifth. You may continue asking, of course, but I'll continue to evade. Anyway, onto the new chapter! The title for this chapter is taken from a certain movie that was just too adorable for words. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7 – The Lily Means I Dare You To Love Me<strong>

"_I have a unicorn like that," Shannon piped up as the story drew to a close._

_Rachel smiled. "Yes, that's because it's the same one, honey."_

"_Oh."_

"_How much cash did you burn getting that, Rachel?" Santana smirked across the room._

_Rachel blushed but jutted her chin out defiantly. "It's the thought that counts," she reiterated Quinn's words._

_Santana shook her head, her salt and pepper hair swinging gently with the motion before they came to a standstill around her face. Standing, she made her way over to Rachel and handed Shannon back. "I'm going to go see if B needs help with the bags." With a parting kiss to both Rachel and the little blonde, she slipped out of the room._

_Left alone, again, Shannon reached eagerly for the scrapbook Rachel had placed on a table next to the rocking chair. "More?" she asked pleadingly._

_Rachel grinned. "Do you know where we left off?" she asked her granddaughter as she pulled the book over Shannon's legs._

_Shannon nodded and flicked through the pages until she came to a stop. "There," she announced triumphantly, pointing at the new item revealed._

"_Very good," Rachel praised. She reached out to stroke the object preserved under a transparent film. "Do you know what that is?"_

_The tip of Shannon's tongue poked out as she assessed the object in the book. "A flower?" There was a slight inflection of hesitancy in the little girl's voice. It _looked_ like a flower but it was slightly withered and pressed onto the page._

"_You're a very clever girl, Shannon Beth Fabray." Rachel pulled the book closer to her. "This flower is called a lily."_

"_A lily," Shannon breathed out. "Pretty."_

"_Very pretty," Rachel agreed. She leaned back in her chair, setting off a gentle rocking motion. "Do you know why this flower is in the book, Shannon?"_

_The little girl shook her head, eyes wide with questions._

"_It's in here because your Grandma Quinn told me that she loved me with this flower."_

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The doorbell rang and a freshly showered Rachel cocked her head in confusion as she made her way down the stairs. A quick glance at the wall-mounted clock told her it was only five minutes shy of nine o'clock. Wondering who could be at her doorstep so early on a Saturday morning came to an abrupt halt when she opened the door to find a bashful blonde standing on the other side. Quinn was dressed simply in a pair of frayed jeans and a soft, checkered shirt. In her hand was a single lily, which she extended out for Rachel to take.

The brunette blushed, her cheeks dusting over in a pink hue as she took the proffered item. "It's lovely, Quinn. Thank you." She brought the flower up to her nose and gave it a delicate sniff. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning?"

Quinn fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "Well, I know that you don't eat breakfast until after nine because of your exercise routine so I thought I'd surprise you with a picnic," she answered shyly, averting her eyes from Rachel's gaze.

The petite girl was beyond charmed by Quinn's self-consciousness and leaned forward to brush her lips against the blonde's. "I would love to accompany you on a picnic, Quinn." She reached to the side of the door to pick up her keys. "I hope you don't mind my dressed like this," she continued, waving a hand down at her simple attire of jeans and a tank top. "However, I could retreat back up to my room to…"

Quinn shook her head and gently took Rachel's hand. "You're perfect," she whispered. She spared a glance inside the house. "Aren't your dads home?"

Rachel shook her head. "Daddy dragged dad out to the farmer's market the next town over." She closed the door behind them and locked it before shoving her keys into her pocket. She twirled the flower in her hands, unwilling to part with the item that would later come to mean so much more to both and Quinn. "Shall we go?"

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"I think you've outdone yourself, Quinn Fabray." Rachel stood gob smacked as she observed Quinn shake open a large blanket over the grass before setting a basket over it. From the basket, the blonde pulled out a large thermos of hot coffee, assorted pastries, spreads and most surprisingly, a wrapped plate of mini chocolate chip pancakes. The brunette raised an eyebrow at the last one and Quinn caught the look.

"You said they were your favorite," she explained softly. "Don't worry, they're vegan. I found a recipe for them on the internet."

"You cooked?" Quinn nodded. "For me?" The blonde's cheeks tinted pink and she ducked her head. Rachel was touched and she reveled in the gentle warmth that spread from her chest all the way down to her stomach. She settled herself down next to Quinn and wrapped lovingly arms around the blonde. "Thank you, Quinn. This is all so very lovely." She placed a kiss on the blonde's cheek, lips lingering over the soft skin it found. "And thank you for remembering."

Quinn turned and caressed the side of Rachel's face. "I remember everything you say," she said. They stared dreamily into each other's eyes for a while before Quinn gently cleared her throat and reared back a little, wanting to lighten the atmosphere. "Come on; let's eat before it gets cold."

Breakfast was quickly devoured and Quinn was repeatedly thanked for her thoughtfulness. Now, the girls were absentmindedly trading the thermos of coffee back and forth as they lay on their sides facing each other, one hand propped up to cradle their heads. The blonde noticed that throughout their exchange, Rachel kept hold of the lily she gave bestowed upon her.

"Quinn?"

The blonde in question turned hazel eyes onto her brunette counterpart. "Yeah?"

"When did you first realize that you had feelings for me?" Large chocolate eyes bore into Quinn, imploring the blonde for honesty and truth.

Quinn sighed and handed the thermos to Rachel before flopping down onto her back. She stared up at the sky, watching the clouds chase each other across a cornflower blue sky. "I honestly don't really know," she spoke after a while. She eyed Rachel from the corner of her eyes; the smaller girl had set the thermos onto the blanket and was idly stroking the petals of the flower, seemingly lost in thought. "I just know that somewhere, deep down, I must have always felt _something_ for you. I just didn't know what it was."

Rachel hummed her acknowledgement. "When did you start putting a description on it?"

Quinn brushed away an errant strand of blonde hair that a gust of wind had playfully pulled across her cheek. "Prom," she finally answered, wincing slightly as she remembered the slap. She turned and offered a sheepish smile when Rachel dropped a placating hand on her arm. "The conversation we shared in the bathroom that night; it sparked something. I felt this…this pull toward you." Her lips twisted into a wry grin. "And it scared the hell out of me."

"Language," Rachel chastised. She slid a hand down until her fingers entwined around Quinn's. Bringing their joint hands up to her face, the brunette placed a soft kiss on Quinn's knuckles. "Is that why you acted out when we got back to school?" Both girls winced as Rachel inadvertently brought up the slushee incident.

Quinn nodded slowly. "In a way. I spent most of the summer trying to identify all of these feelings I had. Feelings for _you_. I didn't understand them." She hung her head in shame. "I'm so sorry for everything I put you through, Rachel." Hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears met sympathetic chocolate orbs. "If I could take it all back…"

"Shh…" Rachel comforted. She scooted closer until she was flushed up against Quinn's side. "I've forgiven you, Quinn. Let's just put the past behind us, alright?" She reached up to sift her hands through soft blonde locks, periodically stopping to gently scratch at the cheerleader's scalp.

The pair reveled in their comfortable silence for a while. Quinn had maneuvered them so that she was back flat on her back, with Rachel cuddled into her side. They watched the park spark to life as families with children ambled toward their respective picnic areas, joggers running down the winding path and elderly couples holding hands as their made their leisurely stroll through the park.

"Quinn?"

"Mmm?" The blonde was relishing in the feel of holding Rachel, allowing the brunette's freshly shampooed hair and light perfume to lull her into a semi-drowsy state of utter peace and contentment.

"Do you know the meaning of this lily?" was Rachel's reply.

Quinn's eyes snapped open and panic momentarily overrode her as she glanced down at the flower Rachel was still twirling in her fingers. _'Oh, crap. Please don't let it be something stupid. Like friendship. Or chastity.'_ She winced at that. _'Or death.'_ She cringed, mentally slapping herself for not looking up the meaning of flowers. Of course, Rachel would have "flower language" in her extensive knowledge of all things trivial. "Uh…" The blonde wracked her mind for an answer but came up with none. She was so caught up in attempting to kick-start her brain to serve an appropriate response when Rachel spoke. She turned confused glazed eyes onto the smaller girl. "Huh?"

"The lily means 'I dare you to love me'," Rachel repeated, a soft yet shy smile playing across her lips.

Quinn's heart thudded in her chest. She looked at Rachel who simply smiled serenely back at her. A kind of calm settled over the blonde; a strange sort of peace that she never had the privilege of knowing. Until now. She smiled. She stared down at Rachel who looked beseechingly back up at her. She reached down to cup Rachel's cheek. "I do you know," she whispered quietly, her voice solemn with candor.

"Do you?" Rachel replied, a little breathless at the look of utter adoration stamped across Quinn's face.

Quinn nodded. She leaned down to capture Rachel's lips, repeatedly brushing her own over the silky soft texture of the smaller girl's mouth before retreating. "I love you," she finally spoke the words that she knew was dancing in her soul and beating a rhythm in her heart.

Rachel's eyes slid shut, the words wounding about her like a cozy summer breeze. "I love you too, Quinn," she said, her voice light with wonder. "I really do."

Quinn tightened her hold on Rachel and nuzzled her nose into chestnut brown hair. "Can I keep you?" she sighed into a nearby ear, her voice filled with so much love that it brought tears to Rachel's eyes.

"Forever," she promised. She laced their fingers together and gave Quinn's a gentle breeze. "Don't ever let me go."

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	8. Written In The Stars

**A/N – **Thanks for all the reviews! They serve as fodder for my muse. More cute and fluffy coming up, with a healthy dose of cheesy. Hope you enjoy it!

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><p><strong>Chapter 8 - Written In The Stars<strong>

"_How romantic!" Shannon gushed, squealing a little for added effect. The little girl was unsure exactly what that phrase meant but it felt like the right thing to say. After all, a certain Disney cat said the exact words whilst watching her mommy fall in love with a cocky alley cat. They loved each other, Quinn and Rachel loved each other. In the little girl's mind, that was all the sense she needed. _

_Rachel could not help but grin. "Grandma Quinn is the prince to my princess." She looked down at the little girl. "Do you understand that?"_

_Shannon nodded fervidly. "Auntie Bee has many 'toons of princes and princesses."_

_The elderly woman laughed. She should have known that Brittany was coaching her granddaughter on all things Disney on the wayside. "Of course she does," Rachel replied, her voice husky with affection for her lifelong friend. Even at the ages they were currently at, Brittany never failed to retain her childlike wonder and passion. It was one of the many things Rachel loved and admired about the former dancer. "Shall we move on?" She leaned over and turned the page. Gummed to the next page was a photocopy of a certificate with both Rachel and Quinn's names inscribed in elegant, bold writing._

"_What's that?"_

"_A certificate," Rachel explained. _

"_What's that?" Rachel hid a smile; she knew that if she didn't offer a placating enough explanation, Shannon's questions could turn into the vicious cycle of repeating the same question over and over._

"_Something you get with your name on it saying that you achieved something or something belongs to you," Rachel replied, trying to water down the explanation to suit her three-year-old granddaughter's thought process._

"_Oh." Shannon's brow wrinkled for she did not really comprehend her grandmamma's explanation but like most kids her age, she shrugged it off as a "grown up" thing. "Is this yours?" _

_Rachel nodded. "Ours, actually," she corrected. "It belongs to Grandma Quinn and me." She traced their names inscribed in bold._

"_What's the cert…certificate for?" Shannon's curious voice rang out._

"_Stars."_

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"Quinn, is the blindfold absolutely necessary for this endeavor?"

Rachel's voice had taken on a whiny inflection and Quinn couldn't help but smile indulgently at the obvious tantrum the brunette was pulling. When she saw Rachel reach up to tug at the blindfold for the fourth time, Quinn sighed in exasperation and captured the hand in her own. She brought it up to her lip, ghosting a lingering kiss over Rachel's knuckles.

"Necessary? No. Fun? Yes," Quinn replied, amusement evident in her voice. "Come on, Rach. Be a good sport. You told me you liked surprises."

"Not when I'm blindfolded," came the tetchy reply. The petite diva sighed in frustration. "Can you at least tell me where we are? Or where we're going?"

"Up," was the blonde's simple yet mysteriously infuriating reply.

"Quinn!"

"Rachel!" Quinn retorted, adopting the diva's high pitched irritated tone of voice. She visibly softened when she saw the brunette's lips twist into a scowl. She untangled their hands to brush the back of her fingers down Rachel's cheek. "Patience is a virtue, baby," she whispered into a nearby ear. "Please? For me?"

Rachel sighed again, this once laden with dramatics. "Fine," she groused. "But, for the love of Barbra, don't let me fall!"

Quinn dusted a kiss to the smaller girl's temple. "Never," she swore against Rachel's skin, effectively eliciting a shiver. Satisfied that the smaller girl would now be compliant, she resumed guiding Rachel up a flight of steps. She took her time, so as to ensure that Rachel wouldn't even have the opportunity to stumble or fall. Besides, time with her girl was time well spent.

When they reached the top the pair was greeted by a heavy metal door. Pushing it open proved quite the Herculean feat for the door was rusty around its hinges. When it finally gave way under Quinn's palms, it swung open with a massive groan, the sound causing Rachel to jump in fright.

Quinn responded by immediately draping an arm over the brunette's shoulders and pulling her closer. "It's ok, Rachel," she soothed. "I would never let anything happen to you." She sealed the promise with a kiss to Rachel's cheek.

"I believe you," Rachel answered, her voice quiet with sincerity.

As Quinn began urging her to walk again, Rachel concluded that the cold wind licking at her cheeks meant that they were outside. On a rooftop if her deductive reasoning had anything to say about it. The diminutive girl found herself led toward the left; Quinn obviously knew where they were for the blonde was confident in her steps, never hesitating nor wavering.

When Quinn sat her down on something light and springy, Rachel frowned a little in confusion. Then she felt Quinn's hands snake around her head to untie the knot holding the blindfold in place. When it fell away from her line of sight, Rachel had to blink a few times to accommodate the sudden flood of light that assaulted her irises, no matter how dim.

"Where are we?" Rachel asked, knuckling her eyes for faster relief. Her eyes were squinting as she observed her surroundings, finding nothing familiar.

"On the rooftop of McKinley," Quinn supplied. She held up a hand, ready to stop Rachel's predictable protest. "I didn't break in. I bribed Sue to lend me her master key," she explained upon Rachel's incredulous look.

"You _bribed_ Coach Sylvester?" Rachel's tone of voice was heavy with disbelieve. "What did she want in return? Your soul?"

Quinn laughed, the melodious sound carrying easily in the quiet night air. "Such a drama queen," she teased, reaching over to tuck a lock of chestnut brown hair behind Rachel's ear. "Not my soul, no. But she has free reign to personally insult me at practice for the next month."

"That's horrible!" Rachel cried out. "Quinn!"

The blonde shrugged. "It's worth it for what I have planned." She gestured to the air mattress they were lying on. "Come on. Get comfy." To drive her point home, she reclined down fully, stretching out her lean body along the length of the mattress.

Rachel followed suit, albeit reluctantly. She smiled a little when Quinn immediately hauled her into her arms, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. "You really shouldn't barter with Coach for anything," she murmured into Quinn's ear. "But thank you; this is nice."

"Very nice," the blonde agreed, burying her nose into Rachel's hair. "Mmm..."

"Is there some particular reason why we are on our school's rooftop?" Rachel queried after a few minutes of comfortable silence. She glanced over at the crate that was stationed by the head of the mattress. A lone candle sat on top, its flame dancing gently in the wind. Moonlight doused them in an ethereal silver-white glow, illuminating their skins. Really, romantic gestures didn't get more romantic than this.

"Stargazing," came the garbled reply.

Rachel's brow furrowed. "Stargazing?" she echoed. She lifted her head to look down at Quinn.

Quinn smiled and positioned her elbow onto the mattress so that she could cradle her head in her palm. "Stargazing," she confirmed. She looked up, mentally thanking the weather report for keeping true to its predictions about a cloudless night sky. Above the girls was an expanse of inky black, dotted by dozens of diamond white stars that twinkled down at them. It was truly one of Mother Nature's masterpieces.

Quinn's eyes tracked back to the smaller girl. "Care to name me a few constellations, Ms. Berry? I know you can point some out." Her teasing smile took away the sting of the small jab at Rachel's extensive general knowledge.

Rachel smiled and ducked her head. Then she motioned for Quinn to lay back even as she entwined their hands together. She extended both their pointer fingers up to the sky and traced out a pattern down and around a clump of stars. "Orion," she husked into the blonde's ear. Quinn shivered in response. "Also known as The Hunter," she continued in a wispy voice.

Rachel trekked their hands to another glittering corner of the sky, "Ursa Minor," she breathed into Quinn's ear, guiding their fingers along the outline of the stars. "Translates into Little Bear," she explained, her voice low and throaty. She moved their fingers slightly to the right. "That's its tail; the Little Dipper." She emphasized her point by tracing the shell of Quinn's ear with her tongue, drawing out a wanting moan from the blonde.

"Enough star talk," Quinn growled. She twisted them so that Rachel was flat on her back with the blonde hovering above her. The cheerleader wasted no time in capturing plump lips with her own, her mouth opening slightly to slant over Rachel's. The smaller girl responded by hooking her arms around Quinn's neck, pulling her down to her and holding her in place.

Heated kisses were exchanged and hands roamed. Quinn's palm lay purchase on Rachel's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin it found even as her mouth lay claim over Rachel's, teeth intermittently nibbling over the full lower lip before her tongue swiped out to soothe over the initial hurt. The brunette responded by fisting her hands in the blonde's hair, her grip straddling the line between pleasure and pain.

Just as things were about to escalate into something more, Quinn found a last vestige of self-control and began weaning off the passionate kisses to closed mouth pecks on and around Rachel's now kiss-swollen lips. She grinned and kissed away the pout that had begun forming on the smaller girl's mouth. "I have something for you," Quinn rasped out, her voice bruised with passion. She noted Rachel's flushed cheeks and had no doubts that her own sported that similar blush of crimson.

"Yeah?" Rachel's voice was equally hoarse and the huskiness of it reverberated all the way down to the depths of her stomach. The hand that had somehow wiggled under Quinn's shirt scratched lightly at the toned stomach. "What is it?"

Unable to resist, Quinn stole another kiss before sitting up. She leaned toward the crate and reached behind it, pulling out a cleverly hidden elongated bag. She unzipped it and pulled out a telescope and a collapsible tripod. Standing, she took the items, set them down near the ledge and began assembling them together. When she was done, she walked back toward Rachel, who had taken to sitting up on the mattress, watching the blonde with an air of curiosity.

Quinn smiled at her; a shy, sweet smile that seemed reserved only for Rachel. The blonde reached into the bag again, pulled out something and tucked it into her back pocket. She then turned and wordlessly held out a hand to Rachel who took it willingly.

"Quinn?" Rachel inquired as they made their way over to the waiting telescope.

The blonde held up a finger, a silent request for Rachel to wait. She unclasped their hands and bent a little to stare into the telescope, moving it a little as she searched for her quarry. Quinn had spent the better part of two weeks planning this; astronomy was not her strong suit and it had taken countless hours of research and practice to put this plan into effect. She finally found what she was looking for and smiled in satisfaction before straightening.

"Take a look," she encouraged Rachel, gesturing to the telescope.

Curious, Rachel did as asked and peered into the shaft of the object. She exclaimed in delight as the blanket of stars in the night sky were suddenly magnified, bringing them that much close to her. "It's beautiful, Quinn," the brunette murmured, her eye still glued to the telescope. "It's almost like I could touch them."

"Do you see two stars almost touching each other?"

"Mmm hmm," Rachel hummed in response. She stopped and looked back up at Quinn. "What about them?"

Quinn shifted nervously but reached into her back pocket and took out a folded piece of paper tied together with a gold ribbon. She offered it to Rachel who took it, the diva's heart starting a little jig inside her chest. "I know that stars are your thing," Quinn said in way of explanation.

Rachel unfurled the piece of paper and scanned its contents. It was an official certificate from the International Star Registry. Her name and Quinn's were boldly stamped in the middle of it. "Quinn?" She looked up at the blonde who looked back at her with nothing but unadulterated adoration.

"I had those stars named after us," the blonde replied, her voice taking on a soft quality. She took a small step forward and cupped Rachel's cheek. Quinn found that she was shaking slightly. "I just…I want you to know that I think we're forever," she confessed. She thumbed away a stray tear that had meandered down Rachel's eye. "Whenever we're apart, I want you to be able to look up at the night sky and know that a piece of it is just for you and me. Untouchable. Unchangeable."

Rachel turned her head to press a kiss to the inside of Quinn's palm. "I love you," she vowed fervently. She locked chocolate orbs onto shining hazel eyes. "I love you so much, Quinn."

Quinn nodded, feeling her eyes sting with tears. "We're written in the stars now, Rachel." Her voice was heavy with emotion. "You and me. We're forever. I promise."

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><p><strong>AN 2 -** Yes, I took that star naming naming thing from A Walk To Remember. How TRAGIC was that movie? Sweet and utterly romantic. But tragic.


	9. A Recipe For Bonding

**A/N – **Hey guys! I'd figure you'd enjoy some humor after all that fluff and romance. Let me know what you think! Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9 – A Recipe For Bonding<strong>

"_Do you know that your mommy's middle name is Star?"_

_Shannon's head snapped up so fast that Rachel was instantaneously worried that the girl had given herself whiplash. A slightly knobby hand reached down and absentmindedly began kneading at the nape of the little blonde's neck, fingers intermittently pausing to card through the wavy blonde locks that tickled the tips of Shannon's shoulders. _

"_Really?" Shannon breathed out. Upon Rachel's nod, she continued. "Pretty name." Hazel eyes, so eerily like Quinn's, sought Rachel's still vibrant chocolate orbs. "I want my own star," the little blonde demanded._

_Rachel chuckled lowly under her breath. "Maybe one day, little one."_

_Shannon huffed in disappointment but her ire did not last as Rachel took the initiative and turned to the next page. Glued to the page was a laminated piece of paper. The little girl bent down and squinted, nose scrunching slightly as she struggled to make sense of the words. _

"_C-a-k-e," she finally spelled out. Recognition lit up on her face. "Cake!" she proclaimed triumphantly. _

_Rachel nodded, chest puffing out with pride. "You, sweetheart, are one smart cookie," she praised her granddaughter, smooth the back of her hand down Shannon's soft cheek._

"_No, grandmamma. It's cake, not cookie," Shannon corrected, brow furrowed in confusion. _

"_I know, little one." Rachel reached down and ran a finger down the border of the laminated cake recipe. "This is the recipe for your Grandma Quinn's favorite cake." A hysterical giggle escaped unannounced as she recalled that particular day. It began with kisses and ended with flying cake batter…_

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Brittany had Santana pressed up against the lockers, the pair sharing lazy, languid kisses, their mouths neither frenzied nor rushing as lips slanted over lips. Santana had her hands fisted in blonde locks and Brittany's arms were running up and down the Latina's sides. School was long over, the last bell having rung a good half an hour ago but the pair were simply content to enjoy the quiet hallway, taking advantage of the lack of gawking students to reaffirm their affection for the other.

Which was why, when a hesitant sound of somebody clearing their throat appeared behind them, both blonde and brunette jumped at the unexpected audio intrusion. Santana was the first to see Rachel, though it was a struggle to open eyes that were currently at half-mast and clouded over in a Brittany induced haze.

Brittany seemed to recover faster; she spun around in the circle of Santana's arms, caught sight of a slightly blushing Rachel, beamed her trademark sunny smile and reached forward to scoop the petite girl into her arms. "Rachy!" She squeezed the diva until the girl in question squeaked in panic. "Hi!" She greeted, finally setting Rachel down and scooting back into Santana's willing arms.

"Hello, Brittany," Rachel replied, sucking in much needed oxygen. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the dancer's hugs, but they literally always knocked the wind out of her. "Santana," she nodded to the Latina, tugging at the collar of her shirt nervously as the taller brunette eyed her with an air of menace. She was glad that Brittany stood between them.

"What do you want, Berry?" Santana chewed out, fighting her natural instinct to snark at the diminutive girl. "I know Q's at home with the flu; shouldn't you be headed over there to wait on her hand and foot or something?"

Rachel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Quinn's birthday is tomorrow," she began. She shuffled her feet. "I want to bake her a cake but it seems that I'm rather lacking in that department." That was a gross understatement; Rachel had been utterly dismayed to find that her baking skills were limited to cookies. The past week, all of her practice cakes had come out lumpy, flat or blackened. Sometimes all three.

"We'll help!" Brittany offered immediately. She wiggled out of a protesting Santana's arms. "San makes the best cakes," she divulged knowingly.

"Britt!"

Brittany turned to look at her girlfriend. "What?" she inquired, brows furrowing. "You do."

Santana muttered something in Spanish and pinched the bridge of her nose. She loved Brittany, she really did, but sometimes the girl had no filter.

"Really?" Rachel's voice betrayed her surprise. She scrutinized the visibly embarrassed Latina. "I must say, I'm rather surprised by this revelation. I didn't know you had a proficiency in the kitchen, Santana."

"Tell anyone and I'll cut you," Santana threatened, her lips thinning into a scowl. She tugged a hand through her hair. "Q's sick. I thought she didn't want a party."

"She doesn't," Rachel agreed, her face pinching in disapproval. "However, as it is her birthday, I'm to acquiesce to her wishes. I would like to do _something_ for her though." She looked at the entwined pair. "And you're her friends. The cake could be from all of us."

"Please, San?" Brittany pleaded, her eyes lighting up at the prospect. She threw out her lower lip and hit the Latina with the full force of her puppy dog eyes.

Santana caved with barely a glance at the lanky blonde's face. "Fine," she groused, clearly unhappy that her afternoon plans involving Brittany and room had now been put on the backburner.

"Wonderful," Rachel said, clapping her hands in delight. "I have all the ingredients ready and waiting in the home ec. room. If you'll follow me."

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"They're just eggs, Berry. Just crack them!" Santana barked from across the table.

"But…" Rachel's hands flailed about her dramatically as she stared piteously at the items in front of her. "I can't," she whispered theatrically, though the reluctance and horror in her voice was genuine. "Inside those shells are animals, Santana."

"Oh for the love of –" Santana reached over and pulled the eggs toward her. She was just about to crack one into the bowl when Brittany placed a hand on her arm. "What?"

"Are there really baby chickens inside, San?" Brittany looked down worriedly at the suspended egg. "We don't want to wreck its house."

Santana shot Rachel a purely evil look before inhaling a calming breath. "There are no live chickens inside, B. Just eggs." To prove her point, she broke the shell over the rim of the bowl, uncaring of the way Rachel flinched. "See?" she showed the blonde as yellow yolk oozed down to the center of the bowl. She made quick work of the other eggs and barked orders for Rachel to hand her over the various wet and dry ingredients.

"You could ask politely, Santana," Rachel snapped, her patience wearing thin as she slid the carton of milk across the table.

"Bite me, dwarf," Santana growled, whisking the ingredients with an efficiency that bespoke of years of practice.

"What exactly is your problem with me?" Rachel spat out.

"You're short, you're annoying and you've brainwashed my girl, Q. Should I make you a list?" the Latina asked mock-sweetly.

"San…" Brittany burred softly, placing a hand on the small of the Latina's back. "Be nice."

"I'm here helping the Smurf aren't I?" Santana retorted. Her whisking became more frenzied as she concentrated her frustration on her actions. However, her hand accidently slipped on the handle and the whisk went flying out of her hands and smack into Rachel's face.

A tense silence fell across the room and the temperature all but plummeted as Rachel stared at the cake batter dripping down her face with a mixture of horror and disgust. "You…" she absentmindedly wiped a glob of the sticky substance from the tip of her nose. "You did that on purpose!" she finally yelled.

"Oh get over yourself," Santana replied. She let loose an amused laugh. "I'd say it's a good look for you."

Utterly incensed, Rachel picked up the bag of flour and threw it into Santana's face. Shocked, the Latina spluttered and blinked furiously to clear away the powdery substance form her sight. "That's a good look for you too, Santana," Rachel mocked.

"You're dead," was all Santana said before she dug out a handful of the cake batter and threw it with deadly accuracy at Rachel. The diva shrieked and tried to duck but it ended up in her hair.

"Stop the violence!" Brittany intoned, moving backward away from the two food-flinging brunettes. "Guys…"

Both Santana and Rachel ignored her. Rachel picked up the milk carton and squirted its entire contents onto Santana who yelled as the cold liquid soaked through her shirt. The Latina retaliated by flinging the bottle of water in Rachel's direction. Water spewed out from the mouth, hitting Rachel in the chest.

"Take that, Berry," Santana snarled. She dug her hands for more cake batter and was startled speechless when Rachel actually _climbed_ over the table and lunged herself straight at the Latina who caught the flying girl in her arms before they both went crashing to the floor.

"Guys, please! Stop!" Brittany was frantically wringing her hands, unsure of how to contain the chaos that was occurring right before her eyes. Santana had Rachel pinned to the ground, yelling obscenities into the smaller girl's face but Rachel was far from docile. Her legs flailed and kicked and when a knee caught Santana in the stomach, the fiery cheerleader gasped in pain and rolled off Rachel to curl into a fetal position. Rachel made use of her now free hands to yank the bowl of cake batter off table. In one swift motion, she dumped the entire thing onto Santana's head.

"What the hell!" Santana grimaced as the sticky mixture clung onto her hair and dripped down her shirt. "Jesus Christ, Rachel!" Pain forgotten, Santana lunged for the smaller girl again and hooked her fingers onto the smaller girl's ankles pulling until Rachel toppled over and onto the floor again. Santana wasted no time in re-pinning the girl onto the floor but Rachel quickly caught on and they ended up wrestling and rolling over the mess they made.

"You're so frustrating!"

"Go back to Lilliput, midget!"

"You." Grunt. "Are." Grunt. "Insane!"

"Says the girl who wears animal sweaters!"

"Get off!"

"You couldn't get me off in knee high boots and lingerie!"

Rachel froze and looked up at Santana who was red in the face despite the flour and cake batter clinging to her cheeks. Then she burst into laughter; hysterical gut wrenching laughter that squeezed tears from the corner of her eyes. It was clearly infectious because Santana's lips quirked before a rather girlish giggle escaped from her lips. To Brittany's utter amazement, the pair that had been fighting scant seconds ago were know up their elbows in hysterics, rolling off each other before guffawing manically.

A small smile broke over Brittany's face over her girlfriend and Rachel's antics. She quickly took out her cell phone and made a discreet recording, unbeknownst to the two brunettes.

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"Happy birthday, Quinn," Rachel sang out as she let herself in through the blonde's back door.

"Rachel?"

"Hmm?" The diva set her package carefully on the table. She stole a glance at her girlfriend and gulped involuntarily at the flat expression on Quinn's face. "What's the matter?" she asked, her mind already raking through a list of possible ways to get back into Quinn's good books.

Quinn answered by holding up her cell phone and Rachel squinted at the screen before her mouth dropped open in horror. "Now, Quinn, I can explain," she began, panic bubbling in the back of her throat.

The blonde, who was desperately trying to remain stoic, succumbed to peals of laughter. She shook so hard that she was in danger of falling off the bar stool she was currently perched on. "This is _priceless_!" she gasped around a mouthful of giggles. "Best birthday gift ever!" she wheezed out, clutching her sides.

Rachel sighed in relief. "You're not mad?"

Quinn shook her head. "My friend and my girlfriend are finally getting along. What's to be mad about?" She peered up at the package Rachel had set on her kitchen. "Now let's see that cake."

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	10. Intermission: Brittany

**A/N - **_ltrasco_ wanted a Faberry fight/argue chapter. I didn't want to go down the angst-y route just yet, so I thought I'd make their first fight a result from whacky events. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks for all the reviews, guys! It means a lot to hear your thoughts on the story.

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><p><strong>Chapter 10 – Intermission: Brittany<strong>

"_Mommy says that you shouldn't waste food," Shannon recalled sagely. _

"_And you shouldn't," Rachel agreed. "Your Auntie Santana and I were just being silly." _

"_Who's being silly?" _

_The pair ensconced on the chair simultaneously looked up in response to that all too familiar chipper voice. _

"_Brittany!" _

"_Auntie Bee!"_

"_Hi guys!" Brittany came bounding through the door, exuberant and lively as every despite her age. Her now white-blonde hair swung about her face as she glided over to Rachel and Shannon, immediately engulfing them in her notorious bone-crushing hug. The trio remained locked in a tangle of arms before Shannon began squirming in discomfort at being sandwiched between the two older woman and Brittany let them go. _

"_How are you?" the former dancer asked as she deftly plucked the little blonde off Rachel's lap and cuddled her like one would a stuffed toy._

"_Good," Shannon replied, palming Brittany's cheek. The little girl adored her aunt. "Grandmamma Rae was telling me the story of how her and Auntie Sanny made a cake for Grandma Quinn."_

_Brittany chortled, her azure blue eyes twinkling with mirth as that particularly surreal yet fond memory resurfaced. "Oh what a mess they made," she reminisced, winking at a slightly blushing Rachel._

"_Your wife started it," the seated woman retorted, tilting her chin upwards in defiance. She went so far as to cross her arms over her chest, huffing dramatically._

_Brittany rolled her eyes. "Still a diva, I see," she observed, though her lips were stretched into an amused grin. "And my wife didn't start it on purpose. Her hand slipped is all," she defended good-naturedly. _

"_Sure it did," Rachel replied, still not believing that Santana's hand merely "slipped." She fished the scrapbook off her lap and set on the table next to the chair before standing up, stretching as she did. "I need to procure the use of the little girls' room," she announced. "Would you mind watching Shannon for a few minutes?"_

_Brittany shook her head no and cuddled a snuggling Shannon closer to her. Rachel smiled at the sight and began to edge around the pair when one of Brittany's hands shot out to grab the smaller woman's hand. She entwined their fingers and tugged Rachel toward her before dropping a chaste kiss onto the diva's lips. There was nothing erotic about the kiss; it was simply a familiar exchange between two lifelong friends. "It's good to see you, Rachy."_

_Rachel felt her eyes brim at Brittany's use of her nickname. "You too, Britt-Britt." She reached up and cupped the taller woman's cheek before dropping her hand. "I'll be back in a bit."_

_Both Brittany and Shannon watched her go, Brittany's cerulean blue eyes almost electric with emotion. Then she blinked and refocused her attention on her little charge. "So your grandmamma has been telling you stories about the past huh?" she asked as she settled into the chair Rachel abandoned._

_Shannon nodded and pointed to the scrapbook on the table. "Good stories," she answered. _

"_You want to hear about the party we all went to after we won a singing competition?"_

_Shannon bobbed her head in eager agreement. "Was it a fun party?" _

_Brittany snickered. "A little too fun," she responded, vividly remembering a very drunk Rachel, livid Quinn and an overly emotional Santana. She settled her back against the chair as she prepared to give a very watered down version of the party Puck threw in celebration of their win at Nationals. As she began, Brittany could not help but wander down memory lane, her mind recounting every lurid detail of that unforgettable night._

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"I'm not going." Rachel stood beside Quinn's locker, the very picture of defiance with a raised chin, arms crossed over her chest and her eyes flashing her refusal to the blonde's request.

Quinn sighed in frustration and tugged a hand through her barely touching her shoulders blonde locks. She had let it grow out over the summer after cutting it on a whim during their trip to New York but was actually contemplating returning it to its short bob. "Rachel…"

"I am adamant in my refusal to partake in puerile teenage activities that will no doubt occur at parties. Especially _Puck's_ parties," Rachel rambled, her hands animated wind milling about her petite figure.

"Aww, come on, Rachel," Quinn coaxed, adopting a saccharine tone. She moved closer to the petite diva and threw out her lower lip. "For me?" She hit the smaller girl with the full force of her pleading puppy dog expression and internally began smirking in satisfaction when she saw Rachel visibly deflate. "Please?" She ended by trailing a seductive finger down the nape of the smaller girl's neck. "To celebrate our win at Nationals?"

Rachel felt her resolve waver and she attempted to look everywhere but Quinn and that pout that had fast become her undoing every time Quinn wanted something. The way Quinn always managed to perfectly pull off the "kicked puppy" look never failed to make Rachel weak in the knees. Combine that and Quinn's wandering finger over high sensitized skin, Rachel didn't stand a chance. "Fine," the diva grumbled as she conceded defeat. She kicked at the floor with the stub of her shoe, internally cursing her inability to say no to the head cheerleader.

Quinn grinned in triumph and leaned forward to capture Rachel's lips in a quick but heated kiss. "You are amazing. I'll pick you up at eight." With that, she closed her locker and shouldered her bag before sashaying her way to Cheerios practice, humming happily under her breath.

Rachel watched her girlfriend go with a resigned sigh. As she made her way to her car, she prayed to numerous deities for divine intervention. She would have prayed harder had she known just how many shenanigans alcohol would get her into later that night.

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"Mandatory shot, my hot little Jew," Puck said in greeting, holding out a tray of shot glasses filled with various alcohols. Quinn took an amber liquid filled one and threw it back, barely wincing as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. She silently urged Rachel to follow suit and watched as Rachel tentatively picked a clear liquid shot and hesitantly sniffed at its contents before wrinkling her nose.

"Quinn…" Rachel shot her girlfriend a pleading look only to receive pointed stares from both her and Puck. Sighing, the petite girl shut her eyes and threw back the shot, coughing and spluttering when the liquid ignited up her the walls of her throat. She dropped the empty shot glass back onto the tray. "That is _repulsive_," Rachel whined, gripping her abused throat with a hand.

"Quit being so dramatic, Rachel." Grabbing the smaller girl's hand, Quinn tugged her into the living room where the party was already in full swing.

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"Someone's looking _Berry_licious," Santana purred lazily from where she was draped over the length of Brittany. She hiked up a perfectly tweezed eyebrow. "Skinny jeans suit you, Berry. Your ass is lookin' mighty fine!"

"Stop drooling over my girlfriend," Quinn snapped, appearing from around the corner with a two bottles of beer. She handed one to Rachel before snaking an arm around the smaller girl, in an unmistakable gesture of possessiveness.

Santana scoffed and returned her attention back to Brittany who was working her up into a painful state of arousal by dragging her nails up and down the Latina's back.

Quinn took a long pull of her drink, watching as Rachel mimicked her. Then she pulled Rachel flush up against her front. "You're mine," she husked into the smaller girl's ear. She emphasized her point by nipping at Rachel's earlobe.

"Yours," Rachel managed to say around an uncooperative tongue. She shuddered when Quinn attached her lips to the column of her neck and began a light suckling, teeth sinking into the soft skin to mark their territory. "So yours," she sighed, leaning back into the blonde.

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"Chug, chug, chug, chug!" The group chanted as they formed a circle around one Rachel Berry who was tipping back a yard glass filled with a bubbly amber-gold liquid. Dribbles of ale trickled down the corners of her mouth but this went unnoticed by the girl who was intent on draining the contents in the glass. A chorus of cheers rang out when Rachel held up the now empty glass in victory.

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"Britt-Britt!"

Brittany barely managed to set the bottle of vodka down before Rachel ran up to her and threw not only her arms around the taller girl but her legs as well. Brittany stumbled under the sudden weight but her own hands instinctively wound under Rachel's rear, effectively holding her in place. The diva responded by gripping her legs tightly around Brittany's waist.

"Hi!" Rachel giggled, placing a sloppy kiss on Brittany's cheek.

Brittany smiled. "Hi." She took in the girl's disheveled hair, glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. "How much have you had to drink, Rach?"

Rachel hopped off the lanky blonde and swayed precariously as her legs wobbled under her weight. "This much!" she whisper-shouted before throwing her arms out haphazardly to emphasis her point. The back of her hand almost caught Brittany square in the nose and she garbled out an almost nonsensical apology.

Brittany smiled then returned to making her drink. "You're so cute when you're drunk, Rachy." She set down the bottle of vodka and picked up a bottle of Blue Curacao.

"Whatcha makin'?" Rachel tried to peer over the blonde's shoulder but the girl was too tall so she nudged Brittany aside, almost causing the blonde to upset her drink. "Whoopsie!"

Brittany merely chuckled as she strained her concoction into a martini glass. "Want a sip?"

Rachel nodded happily and plucked the drink from Brittany's hands. She tossed it back in one go. "Wow!" she whispered conspiratorially. "It tastes so…so blue!" Rachel hiccupped and set the martini glass back down, swaying on the spot as she did so. "Whoa," she mumbled. "Dizzy." She tried to reach for the table's edge but her vision doubled, causing her to misjudge where the table actually was.

Brittany caught the girl, pulling her close to her body. "Easy, Rachy." The blonde looked down at Rachel who looked back up, confusion washing over her glazed eyes. "What?"

"There's two of you," Rachel announced in awe. She reached up and tugged at a lock of blonde hair. "You're blonde," she observed dreamily, twirling the lock of hair around her finger.

"Yup," Brittany replied, utterly charmed by drunken Rachel.

"Like Quinn," Rachel continued, leaning closer to Brittany until her front was flushed up against the dancer's.

Every alarm in the lanky girl's head was tripped when Rachel all but wrapped her legs around Brittany's waist. Again. "Uh, Rachel?"

"Mmm?"

"I'm not Quinn."

"You're not?" Rachel frowned. "But you're blonde!" She peered drunkenly up at Brittany. "Quinn?"

"No, I'm Brittany," the girl replied, getting a little confused herself. She tightened her hold on the petite girl when Rachel swayed dangerously. "I think we should get you some water, Rach."

Brittany began half-carrying Rachel in the direction of the kitchen but the tiny diva, in a sudden impressive state of lucidity, deftly wriggled out of the dancer's arms and almost tripped over the carpet in her haste to run off to find "her blonde shining armor."

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"Santana!" Rachel stumbled drunkenly toward the seated Latina, sloshing everybody she passed with the contents in her Dixie cup, earning her indignant shouts and angry glares though nobody physically retaliated for fear of Quinn's wrath. The petite diva finally arrived by the living room couch where Santana was quietly nursing a bottle of beer, the expression on her face a curious mix of bitchy and mopey. The Latina squawked in shock and revulsion when Rachel plopped herself on top of the taller brunette and proceeded to rattle off a list of Santana's attributes.

"You have really, REALLY intense eyes Santana." The girl in question reared as far back as she could when Rachel brought their faces a little too close for comfort. "Like REALLY intense," Rachel repeated, giggling manically. "And I love your face!" She squashed Santana's cheeks between her hands, her cup of drink having hastily been plucked out of her hands from a dexterous Latina when she realized just how close she was to receiving a complimentary drenching. "Such a model-esque face," Rachel cooed, smashing her palms up against Santana's cheeks in a manner that made the Latina's lips protrude out like a gaping fish's.

"_Dios mio_, somebody get the Gremlin off me!" Santana shouted over the din of the loud music pounding out of the speakers. A few turned to see the spectacle that was Rachel straddling Santana and some snickered at the Latina's predicament but nobody came to her assistance.

Santana pushed weakly at Rachel's shoulders, not really wanting to hurt the girl because a) it was painfully obvious that Berry was drunk off her nut, b) Santana always let her emotions get the best of her when she was drunk and c) Quinn would murder her should anything happen to the girl. However, the last fuse of her patience all but fizzled out when Rachel grabbed her breast and gave it hearty squeeze, the action causing Santana's eyes to bug out. When Rachel yelled "honk!" in a rather obnoxiously loud voice, Santana had had enough.

"Alright, that's it!" In a quick movement, she flipped them so that Rachel was suddenly lying flat on her back on the couch, with Santana hovering above her. "If you so much as _touch_ me again, troll, so help me, I will…"

The rest of what Santana was going to say was cut off when Rachel reached up and wrapped both arms around the back of her neck before forcefully pulling her down for a sloppy, drunken, wet kiss. Santana squeaked and quickly tried to pry herself off Rachel but for a vertically challenged girl, Rachel was surprisingly strong. She almost gagged with she felt Rachel's tongue swipe over her lower lip.

"What the HELL is going on here?"

Santana suddenly found herself flying off Rachel and onto the floor. She looked up blearily to see one pissed off Quinn Fabray towering over her, eyes flashing brimstone and fire.

'_Oh, shit.'_

Knowing that look, Santana quickly scrambled to her feet and immediate ventured to the far end of the coffee table, effectively putting the object between her and the fuming blonde. "It's not my goddamn fault, Quinn. Your midget came onto me!" Santana quickly explained. She suppressed a shiver when she saw Quinn narrow her eyes dangerously. Alcohol and Quinn always brought out the blonde's inner demon. She wasn't just an angry drunk, she was a _mean_ drunk.

"What did you call her?" Quinn seethed. She took another step forward, her skin fairly tingling with rage, fists clenched at her sides.

Santana quickly backpedaled. "R-Rachel. I called her Rachel," the Latina stammered. Her eyes began darting back and forth desperately, hoping to find Brittany. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Rachel decided to intervene.

"Don't be mad at Sant..Sant…" the diminutive girl visibly wiggled her jaw as she tried to verbalize the Latina's name. Unable to motivate her vocal chords into producing the Latina's name she gave up and began a new rant. "She has really nice boobs," Rachel whispered conspiratorially to Quinn whose nostrils flared in response whilst Santana mentally face palmed.

"I'll deal with you later," Quinn snapped, shoving Rachel back onto the couch where she flailed momentarily before slumping against the cushions, giggling hysterically to herself.

Santana winced when Quinn's incensed gaze snapped back onto her face with palpable force. Santana, having a penchant for bursting into tears when she had too much to drink, found her eyes pricking. She stumbled backward and threw her hands up in the air. "Seriously, Q, I didn't touch your girl. She came out of nowhere and just sat on my lap all drunk and confused. When she tried to cop a feel I threw her onto the couch and was about to leave when she grabbed me and kissed me. I swear on B's life I didn't initiate anything!" Her incessant rant was so reminiscent of Rachel's regular speech patterns that Quinn was momentarily stunned speechless.

The few seconds window was all Santana needed to bolt and she shoved her way through the throng of people milling about, intent on putting as much distance between her and Quinn as possible. When she accidently bumped into someone, she looked up, took one look at Brittany's smiling face and promptly dissolved into tears before throwing herself into the bewildered girl's arms.

As Brittany consoled a hysterically weeping Santana, she could hear Quinn's almighty bellow from the other room. Words like "Rachel!" and "big trouble!" and "don't even think about it!" floated all too clearly over the loud music, the blonde's voice spiking up several decibels with each word. When Brittany found out just exactly what happened the next day, she wasn't all that concerned. Santana _did_ have nice boobs after all. However, that didn't stop the Latina from wanting to crucify Rachel to the nearest lamppost for not only coming onto her but being on the receiving end of Quinn's HBIC attitude for days after. Poor Brittany spent the better part of the school week keeping Santana on a tight leash whenever they were in close proximity to the tiny diva and a physical buffer between Quinn and the Latina.

As for Rachel, the poor girl remained in Quinn's doghouse for the remainder of the month, alternating between groveling and outright begging for forgiveness.

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	11. Scales And Arpeggios

**A/N – **Y'all are being so amazing with your reviews. It's nice to hear your thoughts on the story. Ok, so less fluffy romance and more…intense romance? I don't really know how to label the kind of romance I wrote in this chapter. You guys can decide for yourselves. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 11 – Scales And Arpeggios<strong>

"_Exactly what kind of story are you telling my impressionable three year old granddaughter?" Rachel announced, having caught the tail end of Brittany's account as she shuffled back into the room. _

_Brittany looked up with a cheeky grin. "No worries, Rach. I toned it down but made it __**very**__ clear your loose inhibitions made Quinn oh so very mad at you." The blonde laughed at the way Rachel scrunched up her face in recollection of that unfavorable memory. _

"_Mommy makes mama sleep on the couch when she gets mad," Shannon added her two cents with all the innocence of a child. _

_Rachel let loose an amused laugh. "I'm sure." She knew her daughter and knew that she had inherited Quinn's temper and picked up on Rachel's stubbornness. That made for an explosive combination when it came to arguments. She made her way over to the sitting pair. "By the way, your cranky half is looking for you," she addressed Brittany. She jerked her thumb in the direction of the door. "Something about stowaway ducks in your luggage." The diva grinned knowingly as the former dancer adopted a sheepish look._

"_Right." Brittany stood and handed Shannon back to Rachel. "I'm going to go diffuse the bomb." She dramatically clutched at her chest. "Wish me luck!"_

"_Good luck!" Granddaughter and grandmother echoed in unison before dissolving into a fit of giggles at Brittany's theatrics. They each accepted a kiss from the willowy woman and two sets of eyes trekked her movements to the door before refocusing back on each other. _

"_Book?" Shannon inquired, leaning over the armrest to tug the scrapbook toward her. Rachel assisted and helped the little girl transfer the book onto her lap. She watched as her granddaughter opened its cover and began flipping through the pages, pausing every now and then to touch or stroke an item already talked about before her fingers stopped on the page they left off. "What is it?" the blonde asked tracing an inquisitive finger over the strange symbols fluctuating up and down the lines on the page._

"_Those are music notes," Rachel pointed to the symbols. "This,' she gestured to the piece of paper glued to the page. "Is a piece of sheet music. It's the way musicians write songs and the music that goes with it."_

"_Oh." Shannon seemed intrigued by the treble clefts, semiquavers, breves and minims scattered in an organized chaos across the width of the page. "What song is it?"_

_Rachel hummed a few bars and watched as her granddaughter's face broke into a grin. "The Aristocats!" She immediately broke into song, Rachel humming the harmonies as she jiggled Shannon on her lap. _

"_I like that song," the little girl admitted as the impromptu singing came to a close. She hunched forward over the scrapbook. "Why's it in here?"_

"_It holds another special place in Grandma Quinn's and my heart."_

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Quinn eyed the building looming in front of them. Imposing as it was in size, its walls desperately wailing for a new coat of paint, made the structure look more pathetic than threatening. To make up for its rather shabby appearance, however, the building's front yard was well kept with a rainbow array of flowers swaying gently in the wind.

"This is where you disappear off to on Wednesday afternoons?" Quinn's head was cocked in curiosity as she surveyed the scene in front of her, her face closed off from any emotion.

Rachel mashed her lips between her teeth and nodded cautiously. She clasped her hands behind her back as she observed the blonde from the corner of her eye. Quinn looked like an inquisitive puppy what with her head canted sideways, her eyes taking in her new surroundings. However, the palpable undercurrent of a repressed emotion emanating off the blonde had Rachel second guessing her decision to allow Quinn to share this part of her life.

"Why would you keep this from me?" Quinn finally allowed her hurt and disappointment to shine through via her voice. She stole a glance at Rachel and noted the way the brunette rocked back and forth on her heels, looking very much like a skittish horse.

"I…" Rachel was at a loss for words. It didn't happen often but when it did, it always sent her mind into a tizzy as it worked furiously to transfigure the brunette's thoughts into actual auditory sentences. The diva looked up the arching sign. 'Lima Children's Orphanage.' "I didn't know if you were ready," she finally confessed in a hushed whisper.

"Ready?" Quinn echoed, feeling quite lost at sea. She sought out large brown eyes for an answer, her own hazel orbs awash in confusion.

Rachel nodded and took a small step toward her girlfriend. "Every…every time we're out, be it at the mall or the park or simply strolling down the street…whenever you see a little girl you freeze." She quickly reached for Quinn's hand when she saw the blonde flinch. Tangling their fingers together, the brunette silently spoke through their physical connection that she was Quinn's anchor, that she would keep her grounded. "I don't even think you're conscious of your actions." Chocolate orbs, dull with worry, locked onto Quinn's hazel eyes. "Your face always goes blank and your eyes darken. You clinch your jaw until that muscle jumps out against your cheek." A small hand reached up to trace said area.

"I do all that?" Quinn asked in wonder. She always considered herself a person who guarded her emotions well but Rachel was fast proving otherwise. Perhaps, it was because nobody bothered to take the time to look.

"You do." Rachel played with fingers that were entwined with her own. Strong, supple fingers that never failed to send a tingle down her spine. "It breaks my heart every time," she admitted, her voice harsh with tears.

Quinn released a breath that she did not even know that she was holding. She moved until she was almost pressed up against the smaller girl and dropped her head onto Rachel's shoulders. Her entire frame physically slumped in relief as the brunette wound her arms around Quinn, pulling her into a warm embrace. "I love you, Rachel," the blonde spoke into the shoulder she was currently hiding her face in.

"Quinn, I love you." Rachel played with the locks of soft blonde hair teasing the nape of Quinn's neck. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. It was never my intention when I decided to neglect to tell you about this part of my life." When they first became friends and Rachel would always decline hanging out with the blonde on Wednesdays, Quinn never thought twice about it. She knew Rachel's extra-curricular activities outside of school were numerous. However, when they started dating and Quinn's curiosity got the best of her, it would always puzzle the blonde when Rachel would evade giving out a straight answer. Instead, she would always opt to saying things like "giving back to the community" or "playing my role of the good Samaritan." In the end, Quinn had concluded that Rachel didn't want her to be a part of her Wednesday afternoons. That conclusion had hurt.

"It's ok." Quinn gripped Rachel tighter to her. "We're ok." She brushed her lips over the soft skin she found peeking out from the collar of the brunette's shirt. "I love you."

"And I love you." Rachel pulled back to look into Quinn's eyes. "Are you sure?" Any flicker of doubt, any shred of hesitation and Rachel would have wasted no time in shepherding Quinn back to the car. She wanted to share this with Quinn, but not at the expense of the blonde's feelings.

Quinn sucked in a shuddering breath but nodded. What happened with Beth was done. It had hurt to give her up, indescribably so, but knowing that the little girl was going to loved and cherished and given a life she deserved helped to fill the gaping hole in her chest. "Let's go," she offered. She reached for Rachel's hand again.

Rachel smiled and lifted their joined hands to kiss Quinn's. "They're going to love you," she assured as they began to walk up to the front door. "I promise."

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"RACHEL!"

The petite diva planted her feet firmly onto the linoleum floor and braced herself as a redheaded blur ran straight toward her and all but bowled her over in an overly enthusiastic hug. Rachel staggered under the force and sudden weight of having someone literally throw themselves into her arms but she recovered quickly enough to wrap her arms around thin shoulders.

"Hello, Michael," the brunette murmured affectionately, nuzzling her cheek into the mop of soft ginger hair laying against her shoulder.

"You're late," the little boy accused as he stepped back and stomped his feet in disapproval. "Punctuality is everything," he mimicked in a mocking tone, obviously having heard the phrase directed to him by the diva herself.

Quinn made her presence known by bursting into laughter at the little boy's zeal. It quickly faltered however, when Michael turned his emerald green eyes onto her. "H-hi," she greeted, waving her hand lamely. Unconsciously she took a step toward Rachel for she was quite unaccustomed to being around children.

Rachel smiled fondly at her girlfriend's obvious nervousness and snaked an arm around her waist. "Michael, I'd like you to meet somebody. This is my girlfriend—"

"Quinn," Michael finished. He peered up at the blonde who fidgeted slightly under his intense stare. "She's pretty," he finally said, blushing slightly. "You were right, Rachel. Pretty like an angel."

Quinn blushed so hard that she was sure that her hair was going to catch fire. She turned an accusatory glare onto Rachel who simply shrugged and began leading Quinn into what she would come to know as the orphanage's recreation and music room. "I only speak the truth."

"She talks about you _all the time_," Michael pointed out exaggeratedly, half tugging and half skipping as he attempted to get Rachel to walk faster. "Quinn this and Quinn that," he bemoaned waving his one free hand about dramatically.

"Hush you." It was Rachel's turn to blush, her cheeks painting itself a rosy red as she opened the door and ushered Michael in. She watched as the little boy ran off to join his friends before turning her attention onto Quinn, who was taking in the contingent of milling children with comically wide eyes. "Baby?"

Quinn shook herself out of her reverie. She offered Rachel a watery smile. "Hi," was all she offered.

Rachel's brow furrowed. "Hey." She stepped forward and cupped Quinn's cheek. "Baby?" she repeated, her voice low with concern. "Talk to me."

Quinn leaned into Rachel's touch. "I'm ok. I'm just…adjusting." Hazel eyes observed the slew of kids playing and laughing in all directions. "How long have you been coming here?"

"The summer before freshman year," Rachel replied, a fond smile playing about her lips. She remembered that day well; she had been nervous, not unlike Quinn was right now. Rachel remembered being unsure if volunteering her time to be amongst children was the brightest idea she had. She was an only child after all and somewhat of a loner. Her people skills weren't exactly up to par. However, the minute she had walked into the building and saw all those smiling, eager faces, she had proceeded to spend the majority of her summer with what she had come to call her second family.

Quinn noted the content look on Rachel's face and smiled in turn. She was bending down to ghost a kiss over the smaller girl's lips when Michael reappeared in front of them and promptly diverted Rachel's attention onto him.

"Come on, Rachel!"

The girl in question shot the blonde an apologetic look before allowing Michael to pull her away. She hid a smile as she watched Michael cling onto Rachel's hand, tugging her toward the other children, talking a mile a minute. It was quite obvious to the blonde that the boy was smitten with the petite girl though who could blame him? The head cheerleader leaned against the wall as she watched her girlfriend be bombarded by all the children scattered across the room. Rachel was clearly loved and adored and by the she addressed each and every child with a hug, pat or kiss, the feeling was mutual.

Quinn languidly made her way over to her girlfriend, smirking a little when requests from the various children wafted through the air to tickle her ears.

"Are you going to sing for us today?"

"Will you play something?"

"Can we make cookies?"

"Star shaped cookies!"

Quinn laughed aloud at that last one. It quickly turned into a gulp when her resounding mirth caused every head to slant in her direction. She sought out brown eyes, her own hazel ones suddenly filled with panic.

Rachel simply held out a hand and Quinn latched onto it gratefully. "Guys, this is Quinn," the petite girl announced softly. "Can you say 'hi' for me?"

"Hi, Quinn," came a chorus of young voices.

Quinn smiled. "Hi," she replied, scanning the faces surrounding her and Rachel. Then she looked at her girlfriend. "So what's on the agenda today?" she asked, hoping to dispel some of the discomfort she felt.

"How 'bout we start with a song, hmm?"

Squeals and shouts of agreement rang out in the room. Rachel shook her head in bemusement and settled herself down onto the piano bench located nearby. Quinn joined her and fought the urge to laugh again when Rachel banged out a tune to "Scales and Arpeggios," a song made famous by the Disney movie, Aristocats. It was apparent that the song was a hit favorite amongst the crew because each child began to sing without the slightest hesitation. Her heart swelled with pride; seeing Rachel like this, in her element, all served to make Quinn fall a little harder for the smaller girl. Rachel never made any qualms about devoting her time to various charitable organizations. The diva, despite her tendency for being slightly spoiled and self-indulgent, had a big heart and moments like this proved it.

As Quinn added her voice to the song, she found her hazel gaze drifting onto the occupants in the room. She noted that many were under the age of ten and that there seemed to be more girls than boys. The latter observation had her swallowing hard. She continued to trek a visual path across the room when a lone figure sitting by the window brought her surveillance to a halt.

The little girl was curled up on a chair that seemed to swallow her tiny frame whole. It didn't help that she was sitting with her knees draw up to her chest, her arms wrapped around said knees. There was such a poignant sadness radiating off the girl that it was palpable to Quinn even from across the room. As Rachel launched into another song, Quinn couldn't help but stare at what her mind had dubbed "the girl by the window."

The longer Quinn stared, the more the girl reminded her of Rachel. With her diminutive stature and wavy chestnut hair, the blonde surmised that it was akin to looking at Rachel's younger self. It was also her place in the room; the girl was alone, separated from her peers. Ostracized. Outcast. The observation made the blonde's heart clench.

"Quinn?"

The blonde did not realize that she had even stood up. She looked down at Rachel who had worry radiating from her eyes. "I'll be back in a minute," she promised even as her own gaze flitted over to the girl by the window.

Rachel's eyes followed Quinn's. "That's Ashley," she divulged. "Her parents died in a car crash."

"Oh." Quinn mentally smacked herself for sounding insensitive but how was one suppose to respond to news like that? "I'll come back," she promised again before making her way over to the window. "Hi," Quinn cautiously made her way over to where the girl sat. When Ashley acknowledged her presence by looking up at her, Quinn felt her breath catch. Soulful brown eyes, so reminiscent of a certain diva, were awash with a deep kind of emotion far too mature for a child of her age.

Ashley simply dipped her head in acknowledgement before turning her gaze back out the window.

Quinn tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. "Can I sit with you?"

Ashley shrugged noncommittally causing the blonde to hesitate before she took the initiative and sat down on the empty chair opposite the little girl's. Quinn made sure to keep a good distance between naming, somehow instinctively knowing that Ashley would not welcome the blonde intruding in on her personal space.

"How come you're not over there singing with your friends?" Quinn asked, her voice soft.

Another indifferent shrug and the blonde could feel herself getting frustrated. Was this how Rachel felt when Quinn retreated into herself and bottled up her feelings? Now, she was getting a taste of her own medicine. Quinn tried again.

"Do you not like that song?"

A third shrug caused Quinn to almost collapse against the wall in defeat. Taking a few moments to compose herself, she leaned back and mimed Ashley's position before following the girl's gaze out the window. The pair sat in silence, though it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. Quinn seemed to understand the girl's need for solitude though the blonde caught her staring at her with what seemed like curiosity ever now and then.

The head cheerleader's attention was momentarily diverted when Rachel's melodious laugh trickled over to the sequestered pair. Quinn allowed herself another smile at the sight of Rachel now lying flat on her back, with at least five little ones on top of her, all of them engaged in a tickle fight. Her attention moved back to Ashley when the girl shifted slightly to rest her head on the windowpane.

"Do you like to sing?"

A forth shrug. Quinn was nothing if not determined though. "How about if I go first?" she announced, undeterred when she received the same silent answer. The blonde took a breath, then cultivated her voice into a low and soothing melody.

_I see trees of green_

_Red roses too_

_I see them bloom_

_For me and you_

_And I think to myself_

_What a wonderful world_

Quinn stole a glance out of the corner of her eyes. Ashley remained stoically unaffected but her posture seemed to slump a bit. The blonde edged a little closer before continuing.

_I see skies of blue_

_And clouds of white_

_The blessed day_

_Dark sacred night_

_And I think to myself_

_What a wonderful world_

Still no reaction. Quinn hummed a few more bars, her eyes never straying from their fixated spot outside the window. When she was done she sighed and stood. Just as she was about to make her way back to Rachel, a small hand touched her own. The blonde looked down at the unexpected connection then back up into Ashley's face, unsure of what to do.

"Will you come back?"

There was such a note of hesitant hopefulness that it broke Quinn's heart. Unable to motivate her vocal chords into producing a word, the blonde simply nodded. She curled her index finger over the hand Ashley had on hers and was rewarded when the little girl stroked her finger in return.

The moment was over when Rachel called Quinn's name. It was like flipping a switch; Ashley retreated back into herself and resumed her previous stance of looking out the window. Quinn sighed and made her way back to her girlfriend, though not without lingering glances at Ashley.

"Hey, it's time to go." Rachel wrapped an arm around Quinn's waist. "Are you ok?"

"I want our children to look just like you," the blonde blurted out before she could stop herself. She then looked down at Rachel in horror and utter embarrassment. "I…I…I didn't…" She couldn't even form a coherent sentence.

Rachel was shocked but the way Quinn was babbling herself into a waist deep hole snapped her out of it. She rocked up onto her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to the blonde's lips. "As long as they have your eyes, love." She giggled at the stunned look on Quinn's face. "Yes, Quinn. I want children with you too."

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><p><strong>AN 2 –** Song used is "Wonderful World" by Louis Armstrong.


	12. Shining, Shimmering, Horror

**A/N – **I'm late, I'm late! So sorry, y'all. Work and life this week has been a nightmare. This one's short but I hope you still enjoy it. Happy reading! Thanks to everyone who left a review, by the way. I appreciate it and look forward to reading more of your thoughts!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12 – Shining, Shimmering…Horror<strong>

"_Will I have to go to the ofan…ofan…ofanage if my mommies leave?" came Shannon's contemplative question. _

"_No!" Rachel's answer came out forceful and the arm around her granddaughter's waist tightened to an almost painful degree. "No, Shan," she repeated, forcing the inflection in her voice to descend to a more subdued tone. She bent and kissed the top of a blonde head. "You will never be without family, even if something should happen to your mommies." _'Please, God, don't,'_ Rachel added silently. The Berry-Fabrays were a tight knit family; losing one would be devastating. Losing two would be unimaginable and Rachel shuddered involuntarily at the morbid thought._

_The elderly woman shook away the cobweb of unwanted notions, choosing instead to focus on the treasure in her arms. "Let's move to the next page, little one. Be careful though," she added._

_Shannon's little brow furrowed in curiosity but she did as requested and peeled back the page in a slow and careful manner. What popped out, literally, from the next page, lifted the somber mood that had settled over Rachel as Shannon's peals of surprised and delighted laughter rang clear across the room. _

"_Look, grandmamma!" Shannon was indicating at the conical hat that had been tacked into the book in a manner that when opened, the hat would spring erect, just like the objects in a pop out book. "It's a witchy hat!" A little finger traced the designs that were bedazzled all around the item. The plastic jewels glistened and winked as it caught the dim glow from the gently crackling fire. "Pretty."_

_Rachel chuckled under her breath. "I think so too," she agreed. She followed suit and ran a finger down a swirling design that began in the middle of the hat and snaked all the way down to the rim. "However, your Grandma Quinn was less than receptive when I told her that I wanted us to incorporate bedazzled conical hats into our Halloween costumes."_

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Quinn stared unblinking at the monstrosity that was being dangled in front of her. Her jaw was slack, hanging off its hinges and she was pretty sure it would be bruised for weeks after the way it hit the proverbial ground. "Rachel," she began weakly, her tongue feeling far too heavy to wield out words but she tried anyway. "You can't be serious."

Rachel's face fell, dramatically so. She clutched the item to her chest, as if shielding it from Quinn's offensive words. "What's wrong with it?" Her voice carried hurt, tinged with confusion at Quinn's blatant reaction.

'_What __**isn't**__ wrong with it,'_ Quinn thought sourly. Aloud she said: "Baby…honey…" Words failed her and she resorted to flailing her hands about in the air. "It's _bedazzled_," she finally hissed, spitting the word out as if it had dragged mud down the length of her tongue.

"I'm well aware of that, Quinn," Rachel retorted. She looked down at her creation: a black conical hat bedazzled to the brim with various swirling designs. "But, I digress. I want to know why _you_ are being so ungrateful when I spent countless hours thoughtfully planning and designing our Halloween costumes?"

"I'm not ungrateful, Rach. I just…it's just…it's _bedazzled_, Rachel!" Quinn's hand windmilled theatrically. "Baby, it's Halloween. You know…scary? Spooky? Evil? Intimidating? Badass even. We'll be the laughing stock of the town if we go out in _bedazzled_ hats!" the blonde finished, her voice almost at a decibel only dogs could hear.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I think you've been spending far too much time in my presence. You've not only learned how to ramble but your dramatic side had been given a severe booster shot." She took a step forward and reached for Quinn's hand. "Baby, it's our first Halloween together. I just thought we would dispense with the stereotype and try out something different." She lifted the blonde's hand to her lips, ghosting a kiss over the inside of Quinn's palm. "However, if you continue to object to these hats, you are free to go down to the rental store to pick out a costume of your own."

Quinn visibly deflated, mostly due to the quality of Rachel's voice. The brunette was using her overly polite voice and Quinn had come to realize that the diminutive girl only spoke to her in that tone when she was masking her disappointment and hurt. Quinn forced a smile on her face and leaned down to capture a pair of enticing lips. "I'm sorry, Rach," she murmured against the smaller girl's mouth. "I'll wear it."

Rachel's squeal of delight and the hug that knocked them both over made it all worthwhile for Quinn. However, when she saw the rest of her costume, including a _bedazzled_ cape, she had to fight hard not to gouge her eyes out and fall on her knees to pray for mercy.

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"Hola, bitches, you two are looking –" The compliment died midway in Santana's throat as her brain finally caught up with what her eyes were seeing. "Holy shit!" The Latina barked out an incredulous laugh. "You two look _ridiculous_!"

"Shut _up_, Lopez," Quinn growled, taking a menacing step forward, her bedazzled cape swishing gently in the wind behind her.

Santana clutched at her sides as another fresh wave of mirth threatened to send her rolling onto the ground. "Q, I know you're whipped but seriously? Wearing a _bedazzled_ costume that your Polly Pocket so obviously made is just…woman you need counseling," she declared solemnly.

"Go fall into a ditch and die, San," Quinn snarled. She tugged her shining hat further down onto her head, sending tufts of blonde hair protruding out from under the rim.

"Santana, must you be so crass all the time?" Rachel interrupted. She laced Quinn's fingers with her own. "I happen to think we look rather adorable."

"Yeah, so adorable that I wanna puke," Santana scoffed. "And pour acid into my eyes," she added wickedly.

Quinn growled low in her throat and was about to launch herself onto the smirking Latina when Brittany rounded the corner, wearing the shortest pair of black shorts and a tight black tank top. Her blonde hair was in a single braid and she had toy guns strapped to either thigh. She wore calf high laced up leather boots. Santana stared, her mouth hanging comically open. She was quite sure her tongue was going to roll out too what with the way Brittany looked.

The dancer caught the look on the Latina's face and smiled seductively. She struck a pose. "How do I look, San?"

"Delicious. Let's get out of here."

Brittany's melodious laughter filled the cool night air. "After we trick or treat." She sidled up to the Latina who looked pretty delectable herself in a blood red corset-esque shirt and tight dark red leather pants tucked into a pair of black leather boots. Two sais hung in a holster that was draped over broad shoulders, its handles sticking out on either side of her head. "Elektra," the dancer breathed out, feeling a stirring in the lower regions of her stomach. She traced the exposed skin between Santana's top and pants. "You're so hot," Brittany sighed as she leaned in for a kiss.

"Hey!"

The pair broke apart, startled by the audio intrusion. They turned to see Quinn standing before them, arms akimbo and her face set into a mask of disgust. Rachel was next to her, busy looking everywhere but the heated pair.

"There are kids around," Quinn snapped. "Keep it in your pants 'til you get home would you?"

Santana scowled but Brittany nodded in agreement and broke away from the Latina. She stopped to take in the other pair's costumes and squealed in delight. "Oh, Rachel, I _love_ your hat!"

Rachel beamed, pleased that someone was finally appreciative of her creativity. "Why, thank you, Britt." She gestured to the house opposite the street. "Shall we go?"

Brittany nodded and bounded over to Rachel. Out of the four, it was Rachel and Brittany who were most enthusiastic about trick or treating. The diva and the dancer linked their arms and practically skipped across the street. Their respective partners followed at a languid pace, not entirely too happy at being forced into an outing they felt they had outgrown.

"Oh, San?"

The girl in question looked up to see Brittany looking over her shoulder at her. "Yeah, B?"

"We're totally wearing shiny jewel hats for Halloween next year."

Quinn's amused laugh and Santana's defeated groan rang all the way down the street.

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	13. Every Rose Has Its Thorns

**A/N – **I just finished a Harry Potter Movie Marathon at my local theater today. Twenty-five hours of Harry, Hogwarts and Magic. I'm physically, emotionally and mentally exhausted. Deathly Hallows Part 2 was the embodiment of the word "epic". I cried throughout the entire movie. I started crying _before_ the introduction credits rolled. Yes, I'm a diehard Harry Potter fan and will be until the day I die. The Marathon was so bittersweet for me; I both loved it and hated it because I will never be able to experience it again. No more books, no more movies. Sad and depressed doesn't even begin to cover what I'm feeling. Thus, this chapter is really not light or happy. But I hope you still enjoy it. Long live Harry Potter!

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><p><strong>Chapter 13 – Every Rose Has Its Thorns<strong>

"_Can it be Halloween again soon?" _

_Rachel smiled down at her granddaughter whose head was craned upward, looking at her grandmother with a hopeful gleam in her eye. She smoothed down an errant lock of blond hair that curled wildly on the side of the little girl's head. "Halloween was only two months ago, little one."_

"_But I finished all my candy already," came the petulant reply. It was followed by a unimpressed huff and folded arms._

_Rachel raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Are you telling me that your mommies allowed you to consume __**all**__ the candy from Halloween already?" The older woman was not amused by this revealing piece of news; last she remembered, Shannon had arrived at her doorstep laden with a rucksack so filled to the brim with sugary treats that it was threatening to burst at the seams. _

_Shannon kicked out her legs and ducked her head sheepishly. "Well, no," came the half-whispered reply. _

_Rachel rolled her eyes. "You snuck into the candy jar when you weren't suppose to didn't you?"_

"_Mommy did it first!"_

_Rachel burst into laughter, eyes crinkling under the strain of her mirth. "I need to have a conversation with your mama about monitoring you and your mommy's sugar intake." The former star was reminded of all the times her daughter snuck snacks of the sugary kind from the kitchen, often getting caught red handed when she would forget to wipe her mouth or wash her hands. It was quite obvious where Shannon inherited her sugar addiction from. _

_Shannon huffed again, going so far as to throw out her lower lip. "Candy is yummy."_

"_Candy gives you cavities," Rachel reprimanded. "And it makes you far too hyper, little one." She chucked the little blonde under the chin. "I hope you brush your teeth properly, Shannon."_

"_Every day," came the simpering reply. Rachel's already arched brow hiked up even higher at the enthusiastic reply. Shannon felt the heat of her grandmother's gaze on her and ducked her head even further, almost speaking into her knees. "My toothpaste tastes like chocolate," she mumbled reluctantly._

"_Oh dear Barbra, your mommy is spoiling you rotten." Rachel made another mental note to give her other daughter a verbal lashing. "We'll talk about this later. Turn the page, please."_

_Shannon grumbled under her breath but complied. On the next page was a series of thorns and withered, dry petals, taped strategically to form the letters __**R + Q**__. The blonde frowned down at the odd mosaic of items. "What is it?"_

"_Those are petals and thorns from roses Grandma Quinn got me." Rachel used a finger to follow the path of said items, tracing her and Quinn's initial. "See how they are taped to form the first letter of our names?"_

_Shannon nodded, mystified by the new revelation from the book. "Why did Grandma Quinn give you flowers?"_

"_Because she was being a pain," came Rachel's fond reply._

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Rachel likened Quinn to a rose. Pretty, perfect and aromatic. However, like a rose, she was also thorny and prickly. And Rachel was fast discovering that the longer she dated the blonde, the more thorns Quinn seemed to have.

A glaring thorn on the rose that was Quinn was Santana. The blonde and the Latina had been friends since grade school and though their friendship was odd and rocky even at the best of times, it was no secret that when it came down to it, they always had each other's back.

Dating Quinn meant associating with Santana and for Rachel this was potentially problematic. The Latina was hotheaded, crass and never afraid to speak her mind. The diva was stubborn, outspoken and willful. Put these sets of personalities in one room and sparks were sure to fly. However, as much as they collided with each other, Rachel had come to find Santana as a comrade of sorts. Sure, they bickered and bitched at each other at every given interval but that actually came to serve as the foundations for a long lasting friendship. Therefore, Rachel came to see the thorn known as Santana as a nice reality check. The Latina helped the diva develop a tough skin and a quick tongue and in return Rachel gave Santana someone to verbally volley with whenever she had to vent out her various creative diatribes.

Other thorns associated with Quinn were more to do with the blonde's personality. Rachel was an extrovert by nature, often wearing her heart on her sleeve and this made her both vulnerable and invincible at the same time. Quinn, on the other hand was also introverted when it came to her feelings. Sure, she had grown leaps and bounds ever since dating Rachel but there were still moments where she hid behind her silence and her moods.

Right now, however, Quinn was wielding the thorn known as defiance as her latest favorite weapon. Her shield to go along with her defiance? Stubbornness. Pure, unadulterated, bull-headed stubbornness.

"Quinn, for the love of god, will you just stop and _think_ for a minute?" Rachel swiveled around on her computer chair to face the blonde who was sulking from her perch on the edge of Rachel's bed. "You only want to tell him because you know that it would probably send the man into an early grave."

Quinn scowled. "Will _you_ quit being so damn dramatic?" She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. "I want to tell him about us. What's so wrong about that?" She caught the disbelieving look on the brunette's face and promptly changed tactics. "Don't you want to tell him about us?"

"Of course I do! I just –"

"Are you ashamed of me?"

Silence rocked the room the minute those words left Quinn's mouth and evaporated into the air like a slow creeping poison. The pair stared at each other, one with her mouth agape and the other rigid, eyes wide with shock. Quinn recovered first.

"Rachel…" She unfolded herself off the bed and began taking closing the small distance between her and her girlfriend but was halted in her tracks when Rachel held up a hand in warning.

"That was a low blow, Quinn." The diva's voice was in its lower registries, its inflection peppered with hurt and disappointment. She clutched at the pencil that was currently being strangled between her fingers, her other hand still poised in midair. She lowered it. "You know as well as I do that I have no qualms about my sexuality or about being with you. I have two gay dads in case you haven't noticed!"

"Rachel, I'm sorry." Quinn was working fast to backpedal because she knew she had hit a sore spot. It was the blonde who had reservations about coming out initially, not Rachel. But that was mostly her Catholic guilt talking. To throw that accusation into her girlfriend's face however…it _was_ a low blow. "Baby, I didn't mean it." One slender hand tugged supple fingers threw a mop of unkempt blonde hair. "I just don't want to hide you from him."

"And I don't want you to." Rachel tossed the pencil onto her desk, fearing for its safety when her grip almost caused the object to snap in half. "However, I have a right to question your motives, Quinn." Chocolate orbs, darkened with disapproval, sought unblinking hazel eyes that were guarded. "Your father, whom you haven't spoken to since before summer, decided a week ago to try to come back into your life. He wants to make amends, understandably so. He wants to get to know you again, which, again, is understandable. I may not know your father well, Quinn but I do know from what happened to you during your pregnancy and what you told me that Russell is a deeply religious Catholic." Rachel looked Quinn dead in the eyes. "So tell me why you're so eager to tell him that you're dating not only a girl, but a girl who has two dads?"

"Because I shouldn't have to hide who I am!" Quinn clenched her hands but her sides. "You're the one always preaching to be open with who you are so why are you on my case about me wanting to tell my dad about you?"

"Because I know that the reason for your wanting to tell him is so that you can get a reaction out of him." Rachel slid out of her chair and walked over to where Quinn stood, rooted to the carpet. "You weren't this eager to come out to your mom, Quinn. It took weeks to cajoling, comforting and reassuring from me and my dads before you even _contemplated_ the idea. And now, Russell is barely back in your life for a week and you're suddenly so enthusiastic about coming out to him? Tell me you don't have an ulterior motive for it."

"I just want the world to know I love you," Quinn defended albeit weakly. Rachel wasn't hitting far off the mark; ever since the babygate incident, the blonde's relationship with her father had become so strained that they were almost estranged. After the divorce was finalized between her parents, Quinn cut Russell from her life. And now that he was back, practically groveling at her feet, she wanted nothing more than to put him through a series to rigorous tests, to prove his fealty.

"I do too," Rachel replied softly. She reached up to cup Quinn's cheek, a ghost of a smile appearing on her lips when the blonde instinctively leaned into the touch. "I want you to scream that you're mine and only mine from the top of the Empire State building but Quinn…" She removed her hand, her palm instantly going cold as it retreated from the warmth and softness that was Quinn's cheek. "I don't want you using our relationship as a way for you to get back at your dad. That's not right."

"Rachel…"

"I'm going for a walk to clear my head." Rachel didn't bother waiting for a reply as she grabbed her keys and wallet from the desk. "Please don't be here when I come back."

Quinn was left frozen where she stood, her eyes watching as Rachel disappeared out the door and down the stairs.

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"You're an idiot," was what Santana greeted Quinn with when her captain sank down onto the seat next to the Latina.

The head cheerleader glared at her second in command. "I'm not in the mood for you shit today, San. Drop it."

"You don't scare me, Juno." Santana drowned a French dry into a goop of ketchup before plopping it into her mouth. "Whatever the hell you did to get your Keebler elf to give you the cold shoulder, just apologize and say you were wrong." Dark eyes, the color of coffee, locked onto Quinn's hazel. "And do it quick so I can get _my_ girlfriend back on my schedule. She's been tagging along after Thumbelina for days and when she's not, all I hear is 'Rachel this and Rachel that.' It's a freakin' mood killer."

Quinn scowled. "Will you desist with the goddamn nicknames? Her name is _Rachel_. Ra-chel," she emphasized.

"Ra-chel," Santana repeated mockingly, throwing back another handful of ketchup stained fries. She chewed languidly then washed it down with a swig of water. "Well go and make nice with Ra-chel before I lock the two of you into a room and throw away the key."

"Is this your roundabout way of saying that you care about her?" Quinn's brow was arched, the expression on her face betraying her shock and surprise. "Well, well, well. Who knew that underneath all that bitch lay a beating heart?"

"Can it, Preggers," Santana snarled. She leaned in close until her nose almost touched Quinn's. "Look, she's still short and annoying and half the time I want to toss her into a dumpster. But she calms your crazy and you calm hers. It's like a match made in crazy heaven. So whatever the hell you did, pick up your balls and go apologize."

"I'm not sure if a simple apology is going to cut it," Quinn grudgingly admitted. She fingered the hem of her Cheerios skirt and bit her lower lip. "I screwed up pretty big this time, San."

"Buy her some flowers and serenade her from outside her window or something," the Latina said. "Diva likes all that romantic gestures and shit right?"

Quinn carded a frustrated hand through her hair. "Maybe." She stole a fry off Santana's plate, using it to wave away her friend's glare at daring to steal her food. "Get over it, San. You don't scare me."

A punch to the arm was Santana's answer.

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Rachel's forehead furrowed in confusion when her doorbell rang. One glance at the clock told her it was just five minutes shy of nine o'clock. Her dads were out on an impromptu date and the diva was left alone in the house. The bell rang again and the brunette sighed before rolling off the couch. Intuition gave her a pretty good idea as to who was standing on the other side of the door and for a second the diva contemplated ignoring the bell but the glow from the television sifting through the uncurtained window gave away the fact that there was somebody home.

"Hello Quinn," Rachel greeted tiredly as she pulled open the door. A small gasp escaped when she was greeted by a bouquet of blood red roses, the blonde's eyes almost concealed by the extravagant bunch she held in her hand.

"Hey." Quinn toed the welcome mat in a show of hesitancy before offering the flowers to a stumped Rachel. "These are for you."

Rachel took the proffered bouquet and instinctively lifted them to her nose. She took in a deep breath, the scented of the flowers wafting up to entice her senses. "It's beautiful." She look into Quinn's eyes. "Thank you, Quinn."

The blonde nodded. "Can I come in?"

Rachel hesitated for a fraction before nodding and moving away from the door. She made her way to the kitchen to put the flowers in some water, Quinn trailing along behind her after closing the door. The blonde watched the brunette fish a vase from under the sink, fill it with water before gently dropping the roses into it. No words were exchanged as Rachel lifted the vase and made her way out of the kitchen to the dining room where she arranged the vase onto the middle of the table. Quinn followed silently, watching Rachel's every move. The silence and tension was so profound that she jump slightly when the brunette finally spoke.

"Let's go to the living room, Quinn."

Again, the blonde conceded and followed though she made sure not to sit on the same couch as Rachel, choosing instead to sink into the chair next to the long couch. Rachel stared at Quinn and Quinn started at Rachel.

"How are you?" Rachel broke the silence with a tone so conversational that it was like she was asking for a weather report.

Quinn knew that tone far too well. She brushed past the pleasantries and dived headlong into her apology. "Rachel, I am so sorry." One hand twitched where it lay on her lap; the urge to reach over to cradle the smaller girl's hand in her palm was decidedly overwhelming. "You were right," she confessed quietly. "I was using our relationship as a way of getting back at my father."

Rachel never moved. She stared baldly at her girlfriend, eyes unflinching. "And did you?"

Quinn sank her incisor into the bottom left hand corner of her lower lip. "No," she replied. She gave into temptation and reached across to pick up Rachel's hand, momentarily holding her breathe in apprehensive as she wondered if the girl would pull away. A relieved breath exhaled from pink lips when the diva allowed her hand to be held. "I realized that I could never exploit you, us, like that. I'm just sorry that I didn't come to that conclusion sooner."

Rachel nodded, her face guarded but otherwise blank. "You hurt me, Quinn."

A muscle jumped in the blonde's cheek. "I know." Hazel eyes heavy with guilt and shame zeroed in on wary chocolate orbs. "I'm so sorry." Her slender fingers played with Rachel's who lay limp in the palm of Quinn's hand. Neither reciprocating but neither unwilling. "What can I do to make this right, Rachel?"

Rachel stared hard at Quinn, her gaze intense and unyielding. Quinn returned the look, never once breaking the connection of their eyes. Silence procured the room save for the low burr of the television, its glow flickering shadows on the walls of the otherwise unlit living room.

"The flowers was a nice start," Rachel finally offered almost off handedly. A tired grin finally curled the corner of her lip as she watched Quinn physically deflate. "I accept your apology, Quinn." Her hand finally animated itself and curled fingers around the blonde's gently moving ones. "Next time talk to me before you attempt to do anything rash, ok?" She smiled softly. "I know it's not always easy for you to talk about what you're feeling but I need you to let me in sometimes. Ok?"

"I promise," Quinn swore softly. She stood and made her way to kneel between Rachel's legs. "I love you and I'm sorry."

Rachel untangled their fingers only to reach up to cradle Quinn's face in both her hands. "I love you too." She sealed her declaration with a kiss.

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><p><strong>AN 2 -** Thanks for every review by the way. I know I sound like an old broken record but if y'all can take the time to write me one then I should reciprocate by saying thanks! Oh, the title for this chapter is from the song Every Rose Has It Thorn by Poison. It ain't mine, I'm just borrowing it.


	14. Where Words Fail, Letters Triumph

**A/N – **FYI, I'm going to be on a month long vacation starting next Thursday so updates will most likely not be weekly but I'll try to edge in a few here and there. Hope y'all enjoy this new installment; it's quite long unfortunately but I couldn't find a way to cut it down. Sorry! Thanks to everyone who took the time to leave a review, btw. Happy reading!

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><p><strong>Chapter 14 – Where Words Fail, Letters Triumph<strong>

"_Flowers make mama sneeze," Shannon announced around an unsuspecting yawn. She clapped a small hand over her traitorous mouth, hoping to shield the act from her grandmamma._

"_I saw that," Rachel teased. She ruffled her granddaughter's blonde locks. "Are we needing a break?"_

_Shannon shook her head stubbornly. "No." That infamous pout appeared on her cherubic face once again and she glanced up at Rachel with it, adding on the puppy dog eyes. "Don't stop, grandmamma."_

_Rachel bussed the top of the little girl's head then reached around her to turn the page. A small sheaf of letters bulged from inside an envelope that was glued to the middle of the page. The elderly woman smiled tenderly, memories from this item already swimming in her mind. She fished them out, carefully unfolding them before laying them down on the page. Her own handwriting reflected back to her and she traced her finger over where she had penned Quinn's name._

"_Letters?" Shannon's voice cut through Rachel's musings and the woman answered with a note. _

"_Letters," she confirmed. She sifted through the pile; all six letters she had written to Quinn during their separation on Christmas break. One for every each day they had been apart. "I mailed one every day when your Grandma Quinn and I had to spend Christmas with our respective families." _

"_Letters you had to send to the post office?" Shannon's voice held a tinge of incredulousness; mailing letters were a rarity these days for technology had evolved to such a point where the simple act of writing had become almost redundant. "Grandmamma, you are __**old**__!"_

_Rachel squeaked in indignation. "I'm not __**that**__ old, you little minx!" She jabbed her granddaughter in the ribs, causing the girl to shriek in surprise. "I was trying to be romantic; think of them as love letters," she said._

"_Love letters." Shannon swished the phrase around in her mouth, as if she were savoring a fine wine. "Because you love her?"_

_Rachel nodded. "Because I love her."_

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Quinn stamped her feet to generate warmth, her boots crunching through the thin layer of snow and ice that had covered the ground. Winter had befallen upon Lima, turning it into a virtual winter wonderland with the aid of a cold front that had swept into town two days ago. Now every rooftop, street and lamppost was glittering white. It was all rather picturesque but Quinn couldn't even fathom the thought of enjoying the scenery when Rachel was standing in front of her, looking rather solemn and worried. She reached out with a gloved hand and cupped Rachel's flushed cheek. "What's the matter, baby?"

Rachel tucked her lower lip between her teeth, unsure of how to proceed. She leaned into the warmth of Quinn's hand, hating that the thin barrier of the glove restricted her from feeling the softness of the taller girl's palm. She sighed and attempted to corral her thoughts into a cohesive sentence. "I'm going away for Christmas," she finally breathed out, her voice echoing the unhappiness she felt.

Quinn's hand dropped from its perch on Rachel's cheek. "Away?" she echoed. Hazel eyes, burning with befuddlement and more than a little disappointment, sought pensive and gloomy chocolate orbs. "Away where?"

"My grandmother's in Chicago," was the quiet reply.

The words stung and Quinn had to draw in a shuddering breath. "I thought we agreed to spend Christmas together," the blonde countered, her voice barely above a whisper. "What changed?"

Rachel tugged at the beanie on her head, flattening the warm apparel more firmly over her ears. "My gran's health took a turn for the worse and dad doesn't think it wise for her and gramps to travel all the way down here." She looked up at her girlfriend whose face was crestfallen. "So my fathers decided that we would spend Christmas in Chicago instead."

Quinn blew out a disappointed breath that appeared as tendrils of white smoke in the frozen air. She shoved her hands into her jeans pocket. "I wanted us to spend our first Christmas together, Rachel."

The diminutive girl nodded, her own disappointment apparent by her slumped shoulders and dull eyes. "I do too, Quinn. So badly." She scooted forward a little and was relieved when Quinn hauled her to her side, immediately slinging an arm over her shoulders. Rachel burrowed into Quinn, seeking reassurance and warmth. "I imagined us cuddling by a roaring fire and sipping hot chocolate with gently bobbing marshmallows."

"And sneaking kisses under the mistletoe," Quinn mused dreamily. She hugged Rachel tighter, feeling the girl snake her own arms around her waist, squeezing subtly. "This sucks."

Rachel nodded. "I concur." She tucked her head under the blonde's chin. "I'm sorry, Quinn. I'll make it up to you."

Quinn suppressed a sniffle and simply held the girl to her. "I understand. I'm disappointed but I understand." She looked down at the smaller girl. "So two weeks then."

"Two weeks," Rachel repeated. "Would like you gift now?" It was a small consolation that Rachel was offering but she hoped it would ease the frustration that she could feel emanating from Quinn like heat from a radiator.

Quinn shook her head. "No. Let's have our own Christmas celebration when you get back."

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The first letter arrived along with a flurry of fresh snow. It bore a Chicago stamp and the otherwise plain white envelope was decorated with a border of multicolored Christmas lights. Quinn smiled at the personalized envelope, knowing exactly who had sent her the letter. She wandered into the living room where a fire was gently swaying in its grate and fell onto the couch. Carefully easing open the flap, she fished out the one page folded letter.

_Quinn,_

_They say distance makes the heart grow fonder but I feel as though your absence is a test of my self-restraint. My dads practically had to drag me off the plane and out of the airport lest I try to hop onto the next flight back to Ohio. _

_The weather in Chicago is bitterly cold and it has only made me miss your warmth even more. The warmth that generates in the pit of my stomach when you smile at me. The warmth of your hugs as you arms wrap itself around me in a cocoon of safety and love. The blazing heat of your kiss that never fails to make me see stars._

_It's barely been a day, Quinn and I miss you more than words can ever say. I'm sorry that our first Christmas has to be spent apart but I promise you that we'll have plenty more._

_Hoping you are well and that the weather in Lima is treating you far better than it is treating Chicago._

_Forever yours,_

_Rachel_

Quinn smiled, a soft sweet smile that only a certain petite diva could ever bring out. She hugged the letter to her chest and stared at the merrily crackling fire, imagining Rachel's face in the flickering flames.

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The second letter arrived with breakfast. Quinn had stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping over her own socked feet as she fought to clear her mind of the cobwebs of sleep. Wandering into the kitchen, she found her mom bustling about in front of the stove, evidently making breakfast. The smell of bacon and coffee was enough to entice Quinn into a more wakeful state but it was the sight of a lone letter on the breakfast counter that spurred the blonde into action. Hopping daintily onto the barstool, she mumbled thanks to her mom when the older woman pushed a cup of coffee toward her and took a tentative sip before opening the letter.

_Quinn,_

_Last night I dreamt of you  
>Of the moonlight in your hair<br>You looked so beautiful it broke my heart  
>But it was impossible not to stare<em>

_Your hazel eyes bewitched me  
>With its flecks of green and gold<br>With a smile to light up a room  
>You're truly a sight to behold<em>

_I miss you, Quinn  
>So much that it hurts<br>I know I'm no poet  
>But I hope I made you smile with my words<em>

_Love,_

_Rachel_

"Honey, what's wrong?" Judy had become alarmed when she turned around to find Quinn sniffling into her mug of coffee. She looked at the letter in her daughter's hand and immediately began to panic. "What is it? Is Rachel ok?"

Quinn waved away her mother's concerns. "Fine…Rachel's fine," she managed to choke out.

Judy nodded and set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of Quinn. "Then why are you crying, honey?"

Quinn swiped a hand across her eyes. "She…she wrote me a poem, mom." The admittance brought about a furious blush that painted a violent red over the blonde's cheeks.

Judy smiled and edged around the table to engulf her daughter in a quick hug. "That's nice dear. Maybe Christmas won't be so bad after all huh?"

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The third letter came with the fourth due to delays at the post office. The weather was getting trickier and heavy flurries of snow had been sweeping across the east coast with a vindictive fury only Mother Nature could evoke. Quinn almost bowled the mailman over as he came ambling over with his shoulder bag teeming with various letters and packages. He smiled at the eager blonde and handed over the two letters she had eagerly been waiting for.

"Here you go young Miss. 'Fraid there was some delay due to the weather."

"Thanks," Quinn breathed out, her fingers already flickering at the edge of the flap.

"You have a nice day now," the mailman said before continuing down to the next house.

Quinn didn't even make into the house to read the letters, choosing instead to take refuge on the front porch as she pulled out the long awaited third letter.

_Quinn!_

_There is sooo much snow that it is borderline ridiculous! Daddy had to wrestle open the front door, which proved rather futile because the more he tried to burrow through the snow, the more, fell into the hallway. Dad was __**not**__ impressed by the mess._

Quinn giggled knowing that Hiram was borderline OCD when it came to cleanliness. She could just picture the shorter man yelling at his husband for letting snow melt into the hallway carpets.

_How are things over there? I know we text and call everyday but I feel it prudent to ask this in the letter for it would seem rather rude not to. Gran is feeling better though she scowls whenever anyone reminds her to take her medication. Honestly, I think she's being rather difficult; the medication is suppose to help!_

Quinn paused in her reading to let loose another giggle. She now knew where Rachel got her cranky patient routine from; the diva was about as pleasant as Santana at six o'clock in the morning when she was sick. Rebutting everything from gentle words to her prescribed medicine, Rachel was frankly a nightmare when she was sick. Hazel eyes fell back to the letter.

_I miss you, Quinn. I never knew it was possible to miss someone so much but I do. My dads have started circulating the joke that I need a "Quinn detoxification" for apparently, I do nothing but bemoan the fact that I'm separated from you for a good fortnight. Well it's their fault for putting all this distance between us._

_I'm counting down the days 'til we meet again._

_Hugs and kisses,_

_Rachel_

Quinn laughed quietly as she tucked the letter back into its envelope. "I miss you too, Rach." Turning her attention to the next letter, she took a moment to admire the strategically stenciled Christmas trees that had been placed in the shape of the letter Q at the front of the envelope. Gold glitter twinkled from the borders of the trees that had been colored an emerald green. The blonde traced her initial before flipping the envelope over and opening it.

_Quinn,_

_It's three o'clock in the morning and I find that insomnia has descended upon my miserable soul because you're not lying next to me. It's hard to sleep without you, Quinn. Without your arms cradling me, the sound of breath lulling me to a delicious state of drowsiness and the smell of you ensnaring my senses, sleep has become a distant memory. _

_As I lay here writing by a small sliver of moonlight, I imagine you curled up under the covers, one hand tucked under your chin as it fists the top of the duvet. Your golden blonde hair splayed out in a beautiful mess over the pillow and your mouth gently releasing soft puffs of air. You're beautiful always, Quinn but when you sleep you radiate an ethereal exquisiteness that steals my breath away._

_You're my angel, Quinn. Loving you is as natural as breathing. I'm beyond honored and humbled that I get to call you mine._

_Forever yours,_

_Rachel_

Tears blotted her vision as Quinn clutched the letter in her hand. "I love you too, Rachel," she whispered into the early morning air.

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The fifth letter came in the evening when stars were already peeking through the inky midnight blue sky. Quinn had taken the letter to the backyard where she proceeded to shake snow from the hammock before settling her slime frame down onto it. She glanced absentmindedly up at the stars, cherishing the knowledge that there were two stars up there that were reserved for her and Rachel alone. The night was crisp and cold but the skies were clear and Quinn was grateful for that. It was bordering a week of Rachel being away and the blonde was feeling like an addict without her daily fix. Only the diva's letters were keeping her sanity at bay and she had quickly come to treasure each one that arrived.

Fingering the envelope that was of a dark gold color with a border of green mistletoes, Quinn bent and kissed it almost reverently before sliding a fingernail under the flap and easing out the letter.

_My sweet Quinn,_

_I'm on the back porch of my grandparents house, looking up at the stars. There are so many up there, Quinn, all twinkling down at me like glittering diamonds. I'm reminded of the ones you named for us and it makes me miss you all that much more. So as I write you this letter, I pretend that the star in your name is looking down at me, bathing me with its silver-white glow and infusing me with your warmth. _

_Christmas is creeping up far quicker than I anticipated but every child's laughter and brightly twinkling Christmas light only serves as a reminder that you are there and I am here. Maybe you and I are being far too melodramatic about this separation but Quinn, it was suppose to be our first every Christmas together and we are spending it apart. The fates can be inexcusably cruel at times._

_How is your mother? Tell her I miss those cookies of hers. She promised me star shaped ones when I get back and I intend to make sure she makes good on her promise. Gran and daddy have procured the kitchen and are whipping up quite a storm. The smells emanating from the kitchen are mouth-watering and I fight hard not drool every time a new aroma wafts up to entice and tease my sense of smell. _

_I miss you, baby. I'm blowing you a kiss via your star. I hope it sends you my message._

_Forever yours,_

_Rachel_

Quinn looked up at the stars. Reaching up with a hand, she opened her fist and closed it around the kiss that Rachel had sent from Chicago via her star. She brought her closed fist to her heart and held it there. "I'm looking up at the stars too, Rachel." She kissed her closed fist and stretched out her hand, opening her fingers to let her own kiss fly back into the night sky. "May my kiss find you too."

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The sixth letter arrived on Christmas Eve. Quinn was moping around the house, feeling rather depressed and lonely. Despite being raised in a Christian household, Christmas had never been that big of a celebration in her house. This was mostly because her father believed that the true spirit of Christmas had been tainted by the contemporary concepts that circulated around the birth of Jesus. However, now that Russell was out of the picture, though he recently reentered to make amends, Judy and Quinn were trying to turn Christmas into something a little more cheery.

It was still just the two of them, but there was a glowing tree in the living room by the fire and presents littered its base. Judy was in the kitchen making the necessary gourmet Christmas treats and Quinn intermittently helped though her skills in the kitchen were rather dismal. She was just about glaze some cookies when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Quinn offered, setting down the brush. She walked leisurely over to the front door and opened it to find a basket of flowers. Behind it was a gangly delivery boy that looked rather lost in his oversized parka and baggy jeans.

"Delivery for a Ms. Quinn?"

"That's me." Quinn stared in awe at the flower arrangement. There was the usual assortment of Christmas flowers; the poinsettias, the holly, mistletoe and fake pinecones. Nestled between those however were cinnamon sticks, candy canes and berries.

"Sign here please." The boy handed Quinn the basket who set on the table before signing the tablet with trembling fingers. "Thank you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Quinn replied robotically, her eyes never leaving the basket. She closed the door and leaned against, simply staring at the arrangement, her eyes prickling with tears.

"Honey, who was at the door?" Judy came out of the kitchen only to find her daughter slumped against the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Quinn?" She followed her daughter's line of sight and gasped at the basket on the table. "From Rachel?"

Quinn nodded mutely and watched as her mother made her way over to the flowers, gingerly fingering the various plants and decorations.

"This is beautiful, Quinn." Judy leaned down and took a sniff. "It smells almost good enough to eat!" Her eye caught something and she reached forward to pluck the hidden letter from the basket. "Here, honey."

Quinn latched onto it greedily but didn't open it until her mother got a clue to retreat back to the kitchen. Satisfied that she was alone, she opened the envelope. A small CD slipped out along with a note.

_Merry Christmas Eve Quinn,_

_I believe the CD holds the message I wish for you to hear._

_I love you,_

_Rachel_

Quinn nearly tripped over the carpet as she made her way to the living room. Turning on the stereo set, she slipped the CD in and pressed, "play."

_Here it is, Christmas eve and you're many miles away  
>And I wonder if you feel the way I do<br>In the air there is happiness,  
>But in me there's loneliness<br>For all I want for Christmas, dear, is you_

Quinn sank onto the couch, her legs wobbling too much to support her. Rachel's voice oozing out from the speakers was both a balm to her soul and a splash of cold water to the face. Being deprived of Rachel's singing for over a week, Quinn had never realized just how beautiful the girl sounded when she sang.

_Presents wrapped in green and gold  
>Have no arms for me to hold<br>No lips to whisper softly "I love you"  
>Oh how happy I would be to find you underneath my tree<br>For all I want for Christmas, dear, is you_

_All I want for Christmas, dear, is you_

Tears meandered lazily down pale cheeks. Quinn held the letter between her thumb and forefinger, staring at the stereo that was now deathly silent. Unbeknownst to the blonde, Judy was watching her daughter silently from the doorway. When Quinn finally sensed the older woman's presence twin sets of similar hazel eyes met and Judy smiled and nodded.

xxxxxxxxxx

When the doorbell rang, Rachel's forehead creased in puzzlement. One visual sweep of the room told the girl that everyone who was supposed to be here was.

"Why don't you get that, baby girl?" Leroy's eyes were twinkling in a manner that meant he was up to something but Rachel ignored it and acquiesced to her father's wishes.

When the petite girl pulled open the door to reveal a sheepish looking Quinn and a happily grinning Judy, Rachel could only stare in shock.

"Judy! Just in time." Leroy had appeared from the dining room and was pulling the older blonde inside, helping her with her scarf and coat. "We were just about to carve into this deliciously golden turkey," he rambled animatedly as he shepherded the woman into the dining room, leaving the two teenagers alone.

"How…you…why…" For once, words failed Rachel and she gaped wordlessly at the blonde who lingered on her grandparents' porch.

Quinn slipped a hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. She silently handed it to Rachel who took it, her hands shaking so badly that she feared she would drop it. Fishing out the letter, she unfolded it.

_Rachel,_

_Merry Christmas. I love you._

_Quinn_

Quinn didn't allow Rachel time to react as she closed the distance between them and pulled the smaller girl into a hug. Small hands frantically wound itself around Quinn's waist and squeezed tightly, fingers clutching at the material of the blonde's coat.

"Merry Christmas, Rachel."

xxxxxxxxxx

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><p><strong>AN 2 -** Song used is "All I Want For Christmas, Dear, Is You " By Travis Tritt.


	15. Intermission: Shannon

**A/N – **Ok, I know this is waaay overdue but I was attempting an internet free month long vacation. Then I had to fight a 15-hour time difference upon my return so everything is pretty screwy. But here is the new chapter for anyone who is still interested in this story. Sorry about the wait but I hope you enjoy the latest installment.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 – Intermission: Shannon<strong>

"_Grandmamma, I need to go."_

_The little girl's face was screwed up in an expression of pained concentration as her full bladder made its displeasure known._

_Rachel set the scrapbook aside, allowing her granddaughter to clamber off her knees. In her haste, she almost tripped over her own little feet as she scrambled toward the door and out into the hallway. The former diva shook her head, rolling her eyes at her granddaughters dramatics but settled back into her seat as she patiently waited for Shannon to relieve herself. Her eyes strayed over to the slightly dwindling fire and she sighed slightly before pulling herself up to her feet._

_Idly making her way over to the grate, she picked up a small log and fed it to the flames, watching as the reddish-orange tongues of fire immediately wrapped around the new piece of wood, licking away the bark and sap. The sight of the fire renewing to a brighter glow had Rachel wandering back down memory lane as she recalled one particularly nasty winter cold front that resulted in her being trapped in Quinn's house with Santana._

xxxxxxxxxx

"Hey midget," was how Santana announced herself as she breezed into Quinn's living room after having let herself in, shedding snow and winter gear with each step. By the time she reached the couch where Rachel was reading, the Latina had quite the bundle of winter gear occupying her hands. She dumped them on the single lumpy couch before flinging herself onto the unoccupied end of the couch Rachel was on.

"Santana." Rachel's voice was subdued though there was an inflection of disapproval. Her chocolate orbs flickered from Santana toward the messy bundle of clothes the Latina had haphazardly slung over the back of the chair. Rachel hated mess. "To what to do I owe the displeasure of your company?"

"Ouch." Santana grabbed her chest in a mocking fashion. "You wound me, Berry. And here I thought we were getting along so well." The sarcasm in Quinn's second in command's voice was impossible to miss; it fairly saturated each syllable that tumbled out of the girl's mouth. "Where's Quinn?"

"Picking up her mom because her car wouldn't start." Rachel glanced up at Santana, curiosity swimming in her eyes. "Where's Brittany?" The two were rarely apart from each other and as much as Rachel would love the opportunity to tease Santana about her hip attachment to the blonde dancer, she and Quinn were pretty much like that all the time too.

"Parents whisked her off to Chicago to visit her grandparents." Santana's displeasure was evident in her scowl. "Just because we have a long weekend…"

"Don't be so immature, Santana," Rachel countered, waving a dismissive hand before returning to her novel. "If I recall correctly, Brittany's grandmother's health wasn't exactly up to par last month."

"So?"

Rachel paused in her reading to arch an eyebrow in Santana's direction. "Did you really just voice aloud that asinine question?"

Santana growled. "Quinn's not around to guard your diva ass, Berry. I suggest you watch what you say to me."

"And I suggest you start thinking about other people and their feelings. Brittany's close to her grandmother. Being with her makes Brittany happy. You want Britt to be happy…don't you?"

Santana's eyes narrowed at Rachel's triumphant look. "That's blackmail."

"If that's what it takes to get through your thick skull," the smaller girl shrugged. She winced when a blast of frigid air rattled the windows, swinging ice and snow into the glass. "This cold front is ridiculous." She glanced up at the clock. Almost six. "Where is Quinn?" She bookmarked her page before closing it and setting it down. Leaning over the armrest, she fished for her phone, eyes widening in panic when it flashed out several missed calls and messages from the missing blonde.

Santana caught the look. "What?"

Rachel squeaked out a tense reply before flipping the device open, her fingers expertly finding the necessary key to speed dial Quinn's cell phone.

"_Rachel?"_

"Quinn! Are you alright? Where are you? My cell was unfortunately set to silent and I cannot begin to apologize enough…"

"_Rachel, breathe!_" Quinn's voice was distorted over the phone, her voice fading in and out, signaling a bad connection. _"Rach, bad news. Mom and I are stuck downtown."_

"Stuck?" Rachel echoed. Her heavily vocabulary soaked brain was having trouble deciphering the word. "What exactly do you mean by 'stuck'?"

"_We're snowed in, Rachel. Look outside."_

Rachel sprung up off the couch, ignoring Santana's protest and raced over to the window to pull back the curtains. Sure enough, the scene that lay before her was white. Snow rushed down from the sky in furious flurries and it looked as though it wasn't stopping. The sight made Rachel's heart skip a beat and not in a good way.

"_Baby?"_

The line crackled and Quinn's voice was hard to hear but Rachel grabbed her cell as though it were her last lifeline. "Quinn," she whispered-hissed into her phone. "Quinn are you saying that I'm _snowed in_ with _Santana_?"

"_Santana? What's she doing there?" _

"She showed up unannounced!" There was a note of hysteria in the smaller brunette's voice as she gripped her cell phone tightly, slanting panicked looks over to the couch were Santana was watching her with suspicious eyes. "Quinn, I _cannot_ be snowed in with her; she'll kill me! I'll kill her! It would be a double homicide!"

"_Baby, baby, calm down."_ All the way downtown, Quinn herself was trying not to panic. It was one thing to leave the two brunettes alone for a few minutes at a time but involuntary confinement with no way out until the weather ceased; that was a recipe for disaster. Quinn girded her mental loins. _"Put her on the phone, Rachel."_

"What are you going do, _make_ her be nice?" Rachel whispered harshly into the phone. "You know that is about as effective as poking a sleeping dragon in the eye."

"_Just put her on, Rachel. I promise it'll all be ok."_

"What the hell is going on?" Santana had finally sat up and was carding a hand through her hair as she targeted Rachel with a pointed look. "And don't lie, Berry, that panicked look on your face is as plain as I am hot."

Rachel rolled her eyes and tossed the phone to the Latina. Quick reflexes, nurtured by hours of grueling cheerleading practice resulted in Santana deftly snatching it from the air. She turned a smug look to the diva who merely huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. "Your _captain_ would like a word," she offered sweetly instead, making sure to emphasis Quinn's rank over Santana.

Santana's eyes narrowed to slits, her coffee stained eyes, darkening with a warning for Rachel not to push her buttons. She pressed the diva's phone to her ear. "Yes?"

"_I'm stuck downtown with mom, San."_ Quinn was trying to channel her inner calm though the vice like grip on her phone stated otherwise. _"Something tells me that with the way it's whiting out outside, you're stuck at my place 'til morning."_

"**Excuse me**?"

Quinn had the decency to wince at the sudden high timbre of the Latina's voice. She gripped her cell harder, her knuckles a stark white, skin stretched taut across the protruding bones.

"_Why are you at my house?"_

"Screw that! Tell me I'm not _stuck_ with Berry for an _entire_ night!"

"_Santana, I swear to GOD, if you so much as harm a single hair on her head…"_

"If she wasn't so goddamn _annoying_…"

"Hey!" Rachel, who had been watching Santana's conversation with her girlfriend unfold by her position from the window, snapped to attention when the Latina made her displeasure of being snowed in with Rachel known.

"Shut up, smurf."

"_SANTANA!"_

"Damn it, Q, that was my eardrum you just shattered!"

"_Be __**nice**__," came Quinn's garbled voice over the phone. "San, I mean it…don't do…it..sta…"_

Santana's face was almost priceless as she listened to Quinn's voice grow more distorted until there was nothing but static coming over the phone. Muttering under her breath, she clapped the phone close and tossed to Rachel who squeaked as the phone sailed through the air, smacking her in the chest before falling onto the carpeted floor.

"Would you mind giving me a heads up before using my cell as a projectile device?" The diminutive girl bent to pick up her phone, sliding it into her jeans before making her way back to the couch. "What did Quinn say?"

"The line got cut off." Santana tugged a frustrated hand through her hair. "Looks like we're stuck." Dark eyes sought chocolate orbs, pinning them with a withering glare. "Together." A predatory grin cut across Santana's face. "_All_ night." A flash of white as the Latina all but bared her teeth at Rachel.

The diva tried to not feel intimidated but it was proving a challenge, especially when Santana looked at her like _that_. Like a cat that cornered her dinner and had every intention of making good on torturing the poor mouse before sinking its claws into it. However, before she could threaten Santana with Quinn, a loud crack could be heard outside followed by the electricity in the house flickering before shutting off.

Rachel screamed, causing Santana to jump violently. Before the Latina could so much as bark out a reprimand, Rachel had all but crawled onto her lap, her entire five foot two frame shaking like a leaf in the wind.

"Berry, what in the actual hell?" Santana had gone rigid as a plank of wood under Rachel's decidedly unwelcomed touch. "Get off me!" She began prying the smaller girl's hands off her, only to have Rachel cling harder. "Berry!"

"Santana, stop it. S-stop it!"

The unbridled note of hysterical fear emanating from Rachel's voice made Santana sit up and take notice. She stopped her administrations of trying to peel the diva off her and craned her head, trying to get a look at Rachel's face. What she found actually made her heart stutter: Rachel's eyes were wide with fear and panic and her breaths were coming out in short, shallow pants, indicating hyperventilation.

"Rachel?"

"Santana, I don't like the dark. I'm claustrophobic. I sleep with a night light on…" Rachel trailed off, gripping Santana tighter, causing the taller girl to wince as her nails dug through her sweater to mark her skin.

"The fire's still going. You're looking the wrong way. Stop looking in the direction of the hallway and look at the fire." Santana's voice had grown uncharacteristically soft, quiet almost. It was a tone of voice only Brittany could bring out in her. "Turn the other way, Rachel."

Rachel whimpered and shook her head. She squeaked in terror when Santana moved her hands but the Latina simply gripped her back of her head, forcing it to turn to the direction of the fire grate. The diva immediately went limp as a warm glow washed over her face, her body sagging against Santana's in stark relief.

Santana, for her part, was perplexed by Rachel's strong reaction to being plunged into the dark but decided against commenting on it. Instead, she allowed Rachel to remain in her lap, letting the smaller girl take her own time to recover herself. Though she didn't attempt to pry Rachel off anymore, she didn't actively comfort her either; her hands remained slack against her sides and her body slightly tense.

Slightly awkward minutes passed and somehow in the thick of the silence, one of Santana's hands began rubbing up and down the expanse of Rachel's rigid back. The gesture was decidedly unconscious and the Latina was actually startled when her hand began moving of its own accord. She didn't halt its administrations, however, but simply continued to stare at it as though it were a foreign object even as it moved up and down Rachel's argyle sweater.

"I accidently locked myself in my closet when I was four," came the diva's small whisper.

Santana glanced down at the girl ensconced in her lap. For reasons unknown, the hand on Rachel's back switched to smoothing out comforting circles at the small of her back. "Where were your dads?"

"Downstairs. They…I was too terrified to scream and they didn't come check up on me until half an hour after." Rachel shuddered at the memory and Santana dug the heel of her palm into a tense knot that appeared near the smaller girl's spine. "I had to sleep with the overhead light on for weeks."

Santana blew out a breath. "That must…it must have sucked." She rolled her eyes at her own statement. "Sorry you had to go through that," she added brusquely.

"No, you're not." Rachel blew out a ragged breath, warming the crook of Santana's neck. "In fact, I'm surprised you let me latch onto you for as long as you have."

Santana sighed, her hand stilling on Rachel's back, fingers splayed out over the argyle material. "I'm a bitch, Berry but I'm not so cruel as to leave you alone to hyperventilate to death." Dark eyes wandered over to the fire. "If it makes you feel better, you have my permission to use me as a clinging post."

"How gracious of you." Rachel felt Santana tense beneath her and quickly added: "Thank you, Santana."

The Latina merely grunted.

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The most unusual sight greeted Quinn the following morning. The minute the radio announced that it was free to be back on the road, the blonde had practically manhandled her mother into her car before peeling out of the parking lot. She had spent the night wringing her hands and pacing, wondering just what kinds of hell Santana and Rachel were putting each other through. She was actually afraid that they _would_ murder each other given their disdain for each other. Her mother would not be pleased to have the upholstery splattered with blood.

With all these wild thoughts running amok in her mind, she had keyed open the front door with great trepidation, shoulders bunched with tension. Her house was silent; already an ominous sign. She walked cautiously toward the living room, fully expecting to come face to face with carnage and actually squeaked in surprise when she found Santana and Rachel _**curled**_ _**up**_ together on her couch.

"Oh my god, I've entered the twilight zone," the blonde muttered, pushing wayward locks of hair off her forehead. "Either that or I've officially lost my mind." She forced her feet to propel her forward until she came to a stop in front of the two clearly sleeping girls. She gawked down at them; Santana was flat on her back on the couch. Rachel was half on top of her, head tucked under the Latina's chin and one hand twisted around the hem of Santana's shirt. Santana had one arm flung over Rachel's back in what Quinn could only describe as a protective gesture.

"What the hell is going on?" Quinn finally found her voice and the echo of it around the living room startled her girlfriend and second in command awake.

"Quinn?" Rachel tried to sit up but was hindered by the lack of space. She settled for raising her head. "Quinn, you're back," she yawned.

"And you're lying on top of my best friend."

Santana, who seemed to have blinked herself to a more conscious state, managed a roll of her eyes. She wiggled out from under Rachel, falling gracefully to her feet. "Your girl is afraid of the dark." The Latina's voice was raspy and hoarse with sleep. "She all but jumped me when the electricity blew out. Figured it would be inhumane of me to let her die of fright." Santana yawned and stretched. Then she pinned both Rachel and Quinn with a severe look. "But if either of you tell **anyone** about this, I'll skewer your asses into the ground. Got it?" She gestured between her and Rachel. "This never happened. I was never here."

With that, she made her way to pick up her discarded winter gear, threw them haphazardly on her person and sauntered out of the living room, leaving Quinn and Rachel alone.

"You didn't kill each other," was all Quinn could manage out as her brain tried to rewire itself back to a state of normalcy. It was hard to do considering what her eyes had just witnessed.

Rachel shook her head, sending tousled strands of chestnut hair swaying slightly. She rubbed at her eyes. "No, we didn't. We may even have come to a compromise." Rachel peeked up and saw Quinn's still flabbergasted expression so she reached for the blonde's hand and tugged her down. Quinn immediately wrapped her arms around her. "I guess Santana cares about me after all."

Quinn simply grunted and tightened her hold on the smaller girl. "I wouldn't push your luck." She looked down at Rachel who was slowly drifting back to sleep. "Did I really just come in and see you two cuddled up together on my couch?"

Rachel giggled. "Yes, but trust me, it was definitely one of those 'once in a lifetime', things."

Quinn let loose a quiet laugh but quickly sobered. "I'm glad she was here for you."

Rachel nodded. "I'm glad too."

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	16. Paint My Love

**A/N – **I can almost feel the glares of disapproval at not updating for over a month. I'm sorry. Real life has its claws in me and it's not relenting any time soon. So I'm going to be blatantly honest and say that updates to this story will be sporadic; I'm not going to stop writing it but y'all might have to wait a while before I do consistent weekly updates again. Sorry. I do hope you enjoy this new installment though.

**Chapter 16 – Paint My Love**

_Shannon pushed opened the door and squeezed in between the little fissure between the door and its frame. Her eyes immediately fell onto Rachel who was kneeling by the fireplace, absentmindedly poking at the burning logs of wood as the fire chased shadows across her face. There was a soft smile on her lips and her eyes were glazed over in a memory that was still fresh in her mind. _

"_Grandmamma Rae?"_

_Rachel turned. "Yes, dear?" She sheath the poker back next to the array of fireplace paraphernalia and made her way back to the chair, all the while beckoning the little blonde toward her._

_Shannon complied, nearly sprinting in her haste to resume her grandmother's stories of the items in that worn scrapbook. She scrambled up Rachel's legs and wiggled until she found a comfortable nook on the older woman's lap. Then she pointed at the book that was lying patiently on the table next to the armrest. "Story, please."_

_Rachel chuckled and tickled the little girl, causing a small stream of giggles. "Patience, little one." She lifted the book and helped Shannon balance it precariously on her knees before flipping to the page they left off. Stuck to the page was a simple piece of A4 paper. What was painted on the paper, however, was a different story._

"_That's you, grandmamma!" Shannon glanced between the watercolor painting and the older woman. She crinkled her nose. "You got old."_

_Rachel mock gasped. "Blasphemy!" she intoned dramatically, going so far as to put a hand over her heart. "I'm not THAT old!"_

_Shannon giggled at her grandmother's theatrics. "You're old, grandmamma. But I still love you." She leaned up to kiss Rachel's jaw._

"_I love you too, you cheeky monkey." She looked back down at the watercolor painting. "Yes, that was me when I was younger." Chocolate eyes, still vibrant with youth even after all these years, assessed the painting. It was unerringly eerie just how well the artist managed to capture the essence that was Rachel Berry. They managed to capture the sparkle in her eye, her mega-watt smile and even the glow of love that seemed to surround her like a tangible cloak._

"_Who painted it, grandmamma?"_

_Rachel smiled, an enigmatic smile that piqued Shannon's curiosity. "The painter was…"_

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"Quinn?"

"I'm up here," came a disembodied reply and Rachel's brows furrowed at the both the voice's unknown location and the fact that she was already upstairs. Eyes, the color of rich chocolate scanned her surroundings before zeroing in on a narrow ajar door that the brunette could not quite recall ever noticing. She made her way towards it and stuck her head in between the door.

"Quinn?" After a brief adjustment to the near darkness, Rachel could make out what was a narrow staircase that led up. Finger of light bled onto the last few steps before the shadows swallowed its tips. It all served to create a rather ominous atmosphere.

"Come on up, Rach."

The diva cast a wary look at the staircase before complying, cringing slightly as the aged staircase creaked and groaned even under her slight weight. Rachel found herself holding her breath as she ascended the stairs, her imagination kicking into overdrive as she imagined the floorboards collapsing beneath her. By the time she reached the top, Rachel was lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, her lungs burning with spite at being denied air. She gripped the banister even as she paused at the top step to greedily suck in mouthfuls of unfortunately dusty air.

"I didn't know—" *cough* "—your house had an attic," Rachel managed to wheeze out before succumbing to a succession of dry hacks and a sneeze. "Oh, this _cannot_ be good for my throat," the diminutive girl muttered darkly as she swatted at the air in front of her.

Quinn, who was kneeling in front of an open trunk, head buried inside of it, reared back at the sound of her girlfriend's voice. An indulgent grin graced her lips as she caught Rachel batting away at the dust motes that glided through the air, all the while pouting her disapproval at the having been forced into what the diva would call an "unsanitary, vocally damaging" environment.

The blonde stood and brushed her palms down the side of her jeans as she made her way over to stand in front of Rachel. "You have a steak of dust on your cheek," she murmured in way of greeting, before thumbing it away. Then she cupped the side of Rachel's face and leaned down for a heartfelt kiss. A quiet sigh escaped her as their lips met and she shivered slightly as the familiar tingle in her spine evolved to a warmth that suffused her entire body. "Hi," she mumbled around another kiss, one arm snaking around Rachel's waist to pull the girl flush to her front.

"H-hi," Rachel stuttered, her vocabulary having been erased by the temptation that was the cheerleader's lips. Shaking her head to clear away the Quinn induced fog; she pulled back and playfully nipped the underside of Quinn's jaw. "Would you care to explain why I'm currently standing in a cesspool of throat irritating and potentially vocally damaging dust?"

Quinn chuckled and simultaneously rolled her eyes. "Drama queen."

"But you love me anyway," the brunette smirked.

"Every minute of every day," the blonde replied sincerely, grinning as Rachel blushed. She reached down and tangled her fingers with Rachel's smaller ones. "Come on."

The cheerleader led them over to the trunk and tugged on Rachel's hand so that the girl knelt down next to her. the brunette leaned over, curiosity causing her to forget about the fact Quinn's attic could do with a good clean. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she saw what looked like half an arts supply shop haphazardly strewed about inside the trunk.

"Who paints?" she inquired, reaching in to fish out a painted crusted bottle and turning it in her hands.

"I do."

Rachel's head whipped around to face Quinn. At the same time, the vertebrae in her neck cracked and she winced. Quinn mirrored her reaction in sympathy and reached around with her hand to massage the offending area at the back of Rachel's neck.

"You paint?" The note of incredulity was difficult to conceal as widened chocolate orbs stared into hazel eyes that were suddenly stormy with emotion.

"Yes," came the noncommittal reply. She dropped her hand from Rachel's neck, stared at her girlfriend for a few scant seconds before scooping out a bulky black folder stuffed with loose sheaves of paper. Wordlessly, she handed it to Rachel who accepted it gingerly, almost afraid as if she were being handed a fragile piece of china. The smaller girl rocked back on her heels as she settled her back against the side of the trunk then began thumbing through the portfolio.

Neither girl spoke; Quinn had returned back t rummaging through her old art supplies and Rachel was deathly silent as she leafed through page after page of paintings, sketches and drawings. With each page, she could feel the tightness in her chest compressing into a thick ball of confusion and tension. Unable to take it anymore, she looked up.

"This is exquisite work, Quinn." She closed the folder gently, careful of the precious cargo it held. She waited until the blonde's head popped back out to meet her chocolate eyes. "Why is it up here?"

Quinn sighed and raked a resigned hand through her wavy blonde locks. "Russell." As if the name was all it took to explain everything.

And it did. The utterance of that name suddenly brought everything into hindsight and Rachel felt her blood boil at its implication. She pursed her lips, unwilling to upset Quinn by bursting into a rant about the man that was the blonde's father.

"He didn't think being an artist was the appropriate profession for a Fabray," Quinn continued quietly, well of aware of Rachel's sudden mood swing. The smaller girl never forgave Russell for kicking Quinn out when she needed her parents the most. She disliked him even more for failing to understand the girls' relationship with each other to the point where he would ignore any evidence of it. In retaliation, Quinn had taken to calling him Russell, which irked the man to no end. He still tried to connect with Quinn though and was persistent in his endeavors though Quinn had failed to respond as enthusiastically.

Now the blonde watched for Rachel's inevitable explosion. She watched the way Rachel's jaw cinched, a muscle jumping out in her cheek. The brunette was repeatedly pinching the bridge of her nose and exhaling noisily in an attempt to quell the storm of emotions that were no doubt eating at her insides. When Quinn broke loose of the tension that surrounded them and ran soothing fingers down Rachel's arm, the girl tensed.

"Hey, it's ok." Quinn knew that those words would be the straw that broke the camel's back but she was growing concerned by the ruddy hue of Rachel's face. She suppressed a flinched when darkened brown eyes snapped onto hazel with palpable force.

"It's **not** ok," Rachel all but growled. "Nothing about this—" she waved a hand over the trunk. "—is ok, Quinn." She slapped a hand down on her thigh in frustration. "The man starved you of your talent!"

Quinn knew her girlfriend would be upset; Rachel grew up in a household where her gifts and talents were not only nurtured but celebrated. Her fathers loved it when she gave impromptu performances in the Oscar room and they watched her dance recital videos with an air of being proud parents of a talented daughter. Now watching the brunette rant and rave about the stupidities of one Russell Fabray, the blonde knew of only one way to calm her.

She hauled the girl into her arms.

Rachel didn't go willingly. She was on a roll, listing every atrocious thing a parent could do to their child. When Quinn tugged her towards her, she resisted but the blonde had an added layer of strength and muscle to her deceptively willowy frame and she managed to fold Rachel into the cradle of her arms, holding her firmly in place.

"It's ok, Rach."

Rachel shook her head, the fight having left her body as quickly as it had entered. Sadness replaced anger and she found herself sniffling. "It's really not," she mumbled feebly into Quinn's neck. "He took away from you, something that you so obviously loved to do and were good at."

Quinn pressed her lips into Rachel's hair, her heart soaring at just how fiercely Rachel was about protecting Quinn's happiness. It was times like this that made the blonde love the brunette just a little bit more. "He's not here anymore, baby. He had no influence over me so he can't stop me from doing what I want."

Rachel blinked away tears and focused on the scent of vanilla and Quinn. She brushed her lips against the blonde's pulse point, inciting it to beat just a little harder, a little faster. She wasn't disappointed. "I love you, Quinn."

The cheerleader closed her eyes at the soft confession. "I know you do." She ghosted a kiss across Rachel's temple. "I love you too."

"Paint me something."

Quinn pulled back slightly, confusion marring the features of her face. "What?"

Rachel leaned forward to capture the taller girl's lips in a brief but passionate kiss. "Paint me something," she repeated.

"What do you want me to paint?" Quinn asked, slightly blindsided by the request. She obliged however and began reaching into the trunk to collect the necessary supplies, some of which she handed to Rachel.

"Anything," Rachel breathed out, excitement now coloring her tone. "You could paint a garbage can and it would rival Monet."

"Now, you're just exaggerating," Quinn retorted, rolling her eyes. She stood and cast Rachel a mischievous smirk. "I'm going to paint you," she declared.

Rachel fumbled with the paintbrushes and palettes in her hands. "What?"

Quinn grinned. "I said I'm going to paint you. I want to paint my love," she husked, her voice dropping several registers as she slid her face closer to Rachel's until their breaths mingled.

"_Paint my love. I should paint my love. You're the picture of a thousand sunsets."_ She kissed Rachel softly. _"Your love's the freedom of, a thousand doves. Baby, I should paint my love."_

Rachel's eyes glistened at being serenaded quite unexpectedly. Then she ducked her head and blushed fiercely. "I'm not that pretty, Quinn," she mumbled shyly.

Quinn shuffled the materials in her arms to the crook of her left elbow. Tucking two fingers under Rachel's chin, she forced the girl to look up at her. "You're right," she began. "You're not pretty, Rachel. You're _beautiful_." She whispered a trail of kissed down Rachel's cheek before kissing the corner of her mouth. "You're beautiful and I want to paint you." A firm kiss was placed on the smaller girl's lips. "I love you."

Rachel smiled. "I love you too."

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**A/N 2 –** Song & chapter title used was "Paint My Love" by Michael Learns To Rock. Some of you young'ins might not be familiar with the band but you should look them up. Some very nice love songs. Ok, I'm not that old; I'm just a victim of my parents' music collection. Good thing my folks have good taste.


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